


You want in or out?

by emimix3



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chatting & Messaging, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Friendship, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Secret Relationship, Social Media, Texting, nhl!Bitty, queer hockey players as a support group
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 12:03:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 38,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16639730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emimix3/pseuds/emimix3
Summary: Jack breathed. Once, twice.You can do it. You just have to tell George about you and Bittle, and you'll feel so much better.George beat him to it, though.“Eric Bittle, your old teammate. I want him with the Falcs, the minute he graduates.”Well, now he couldn’t talk, could he.





	1. In

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi @insertatitlehere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ! This is my entry for the OMGCP Big Bang 2018, I've worked on it for a few months, I hope you'll enjoy !
> 
> I'd like to thank the mods of the Big Bang for organising all of this, and also loveyoutoobits for the corrections (do not worry, I now'm aware of all the contractions rules!), and istadris who is sometimes a good person, trying to motivate you with cat videos and sometimes is terrible and send you DFR soundbites.
> 
> The art is by whyartblog and you should definitely follow their work !

Being in the closet was difficult. A bit too much, when you had to juggle it while also being the most observed rookie of the league, with a tragic backstory to overcome and a legacy to keep up with.

Things will get easier once Georgia knew, Jack was aware of that. By ‘Georgia’, he was also aware it meant both George and Bittle’s parents (and Bittle also probably knew it) but they hadn’t really talked about that yet. First, George. Then, the parents.

The plan wasn’t complicated. Go jogging with her, tell her about Bitty, ???, profit. Or something like that. Holster made the plan, if anything goes wrong Jack knew who to blame.

But right now, he was still in his car in the parking lot and George was a few meters away, stretching, and she hadn’t yet noticed him, and why did he decide to follow Holster’s plan that was the worst idea ever Holster’s plans were _terrible_ why-

Marde. Sors-toi les doigts du cul, Jack.

For you, and Bits.

He finally got out of the car, and Georgia was glad, if a bit surprised to see him; she was happy to invite him to tag along for her run. Breathe, Jack. You can do it.

They hadn’t even begun, before George’s hand was on his back and she asked him:

 

“What’s up, kid?”

 

Uh. So he was that easy to read, hein?

 

“Well, I actually wanted to talk to you about something…”

 

And they jogged.

Jack was trying to find his words, but it was hard. He didn’t know the forest at all, so he had to focus on the way, and how do you even begin to explain something so big, and so close to your heart?

 

“You’re not talking much, for someone who wants to talk,” George teased him, after a minute or two of silence.

“I don’t know how to say it.”

“If you want,” she proposed, leading them towards a wooden bridge, “we can talk about other stuff right now. And you’ll tell me about your thing when you’re ready.”

“I’m going out with one of my teammates”, he almost spat out. It didn’t go past his lips, though. It got stuck in his throat.

“Ok, so I’ll begin” George said, considering his silence as an agreement. “We’ve been scouting a lot of people lately… In the AHL, the NCAA, Juniors, all that. We need to strengthen our offense.”

 

They needed to, indeed. First line was good, but the second and third lines were… lacking something to make them truly reliable.

 

“It’s complicated. We need a precise profile, and you know me, I’m picky. I know who I want, and I’d rather not settle for anyone less.”

“Oh, really?” Jack stammered. “So, who…”

 

He didn’t need to finish his sentence. George was already chuckling.

 

“I think you saw him play. Short, quick. Clever. Soft hands. Great teamwork.”

 

Jack knew one (1) short, quick, clever guy who loved teamwork and had the _softest_ hands, but he wasn’t the point, right now. He’ll be as soon as he gets the guts to-

 

“Eric Bittle, your old teammate. I want him with the Falcs, the minute he graduates.”

 

Oh well. Marde. Now he couldn’t talk, could he.

 

 

When he got back to his car, Jack didn’t know what to do with himself. He was all over the place. George and him (okay, mostly George, _that wasn’t supposed to happen like that_ ) chatted a lot about Bittle, and what a great asset to the team he’d be, and Jack. Couldn’t. Talk.

When she asked what was so important he wanted to tell her, he stammered something about wanting a list of the best sports psychologists in Providence because, well, it’s something he had wanted to ask for a while now -Skype sessions with his current therapist were becoming a bit tedious for him.

And now he was sitting in his car. Georgia had already left. And he didn’t know what to do. So, he phoned Bitty, a bit lifeless.

 

“Hi sweetheart!” Bitty’s familiar drawl welcomed him. “How did it go?”

“I… I couldn’t do it.”

“Oh, honey-“ Jack could hear Bitty sigh, the warm sigh that made his heart feel better. “-don’t worry. It’s nothing. You’ll manage when you’re ready, and-“

“No, Bitty, that’s not it. George, she…”

“She…?”

 

In just one syllable, Jack could hear that Bitty was _scared_. Oh, no. No, no, no. Not like that.

 

“Bits, she wants to sign you into the Falcs.”

 

There was a silence. A long, long silence.

 

“… She wants what now?”

 

Bitty was smiling, Jack knew it. His fake smile he wears when he’s overwhelmed and could not compute. Welcome to the club, bud.

 

“… Like, as a PR person? As the team’s personal baker?”

“Wha- No? As a player?”

 

Sometimes Bittle’s train of thought was a mystery to Jack.

 

“As a _player_ ? _Me?”_

“I- Yes? Bitty, I don’t know if you noticed, but you play hockey?” Jack incredulously stammered.

“Yes, but.”

“Good hockey, Bits. Great hockey.”

“NHL-worthy hockey?”

 

It was surreal. The whole situation was surreal. It wasn’t how Jack imagined his day would be, at all. Until now, he never thought about it. Because Bits never seemed to care.

 

“Yes. Yes Bitty, you play NHL-worthy hockey.”

 

There was a beat, where Jack only heard Bittle breathe. Finally, he said:

 

“George told me -well, she told me not to tell you, because she’s still trying to convince some people of the board waiting one more year to scout you is a good idea.”

“I don’t- I don’t know Jack. I don’t know what to do. I’m freaking out. I can’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t worry -I’m already on the way.”

 

* * *

 

 

Forty minutes later, Jack was parking in front of the Haus. Bitty was supposed to have a morning class at nine, but frankly Jack wouldn’t even chirp him to have skipped it.

 _He_ would have ditched it.

He tiptoed into the house, not wanting to be noticed and to have to explain what he’s doing here on a Tuesday morning; but he saw no one downstairs, and the kitchen was empty. There wasn’t even a faint odour of food. Shit. Jack rushed upstairs. So, he went straight to Bitty’s room, fortunately not walking into anyone on his way.

His boyfriend was here, lying in his bed on his side, wide awake and fully dressed.

 

“Hi, bud.”

 

Bitty just groaned. Jack went to sit on the bed next to him, but his boyfriend’s arms were quick to drag him down so he was lying too and Bitty could hide into his chest.

They stayed a few minutes like that. It was easy.

 

“So, the NHL,” Bitty finally said.

“The NHL.”

 

That was the whole problem. The NHL. Bitty had never thought that much about the NHL. It was Jack’s goal, Chowder and Holster’s dream, half of the team’s fantasy. But to Bitty, it was a concept, far away from him. Not his place. He was just a former figure skater who began hockey in high school to stay on the ice.

And now, the NHL wanted him.

 

“Well, there _are_ scouts this year too. A lot,” Bitty explained. “To our matches, I mean. I thought they were for Chowder, or Holster.”

“Chowder is still only a sophomore, but I don’t worry for him; by this time next year,, the scouts will be focusing on him, and I think he’ll be invited to prospect camps this summer. As for Holster…”

“Holster isn’t NHL-cut.”

“Holster _is_ NHL-cut. The most common cut for NHL players. And he’s _good_ at what he does. But…”

“But he’s not _great._ There are already so many defencemen just like him, but younger, stronger, quicker.”

“Yes. He’s _good_ , but he’s not _unique._ ”

“And _I_ am.”

 

Bitty was trying very hard not to freak out. Nothing about this conversation wasn’t surreal.

 

“You definitely are, Bits. You’d do great in the NHL. You’d do great with the Falcs. So, that’s why…”

“That’s why you didn’t come out to George.”

 

Jack swallowed, as a way to gather his thought before he said:

 

“I couldn’t, Bitty… I don’t know. I don’t know if you want to ever try the NHL. I don’t know if you actually _could_ , because George does want you in but the whole board isn’t decided yet, and I don’t know if other teams have noticed you and would like to get you to sign with them. But had I come out to George… I could have killed your chances to ever do so. I couldn’t do it before talking to you first. If you tell me you’re certain you don’t want to try, I’m going to tell George the minute I’m out there, but if you still even wonder if you could… I can’t kill your chances.”

“Will it be? A problem, I mean. That we’re together.”

“I don’t know. Probably. Definitely.”

 

If Bitty joined the Falconers, once they’d be out, the problems would be legal, of course. Did Jack bribe someone to get Bitty a contract? Did he manipulate anyone to do so?

The answer would be no, of course, but how would they prove it?

If he joined another team, well… To begin with, if any team knew of their relationship, they wouldn’t risk signing him. No one was out in the NHL. Definitely no other big-money sports league had two players overtly in a relationship together. There were too many variables, too many unknowns. Even George wouldn’t risk it.

And that didn’t even begin to deal with the homophobia they both will have to deal with. That Bits will have to deal with anyway if he decides to sign.

 

“Maybe… Maybe I’d like to try the NHL. I don't know.”

“Whatever you decide, I’ll support you, bud.”


	2. Phones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hover text for translation on desktop, or go to the end notes

When Jack told his dad a few days later, he was, to say the least, _ecstatic._

Bitty was in Providence this week-end, so they decided to use this occasion to tell Jack’s parents about the Falconers, and more importantly, to ask a million questions to Bob.

They set up Skype, sitting next to each other on the couch, and called Jack’s house. Bob had appeared on the screen, replying from his laptop, and he greeted them with a big smile.

Jack didn’t beat about the bush for long before announcing the news.

It was around this moment that Bitty got lost.

 

“Je vais avoir un gendre dans la LNH ? Enfin quelqu’un de la famille pour m’accompagner à tous les galas ?” Bob had yelped.

“’Cas où, t’as déjà un fils, c’est déjà pas mal…” Jack muttered but got ignored.

“Robbie, tu vas avoir _quoi_?” they heard Alicia say from the next room.

“Alicia, schatz, viens ! Tu devineras jamais ce que Tic et Tac viennent de m’annoncer !”

“’Tic et Tac’ maintenant, parfait, j’me suis jamais senti aussi soutenu,” Jack mumbled as they could hear his mother joining his dad.

“Allo ça va bien,” Alicia said, slipping onto the screen next to her husband. “So what is this news that got Bobby screaming like a skunk?”

 

Finally. Someone sensible that remembered Bitty had only one (1) semester of French under his belt.

 

“I tried to come out to Georgia Martin, m’man; but instead, she told me that she wants to get Bitty to sign with the Falcs.”

“Oh vay!” Alicia let out, her hands over her heart. “Really? That is incredible! I knew you had it in you, Eric! It’s always so unique to watch you play.”

“Right? That’s what I told him,” Jack said, irritation forgotten, replaced by pride. “He doesn’t listen to me.”

“Jack-!”

“Eric, you should listen to the boy. He may be a bit dense, but he’s rarely wrong regarding hockey,” Bob joked. “And he never shuts up about how good you are. You’d do great in the NHL.”

“Oh Sweet Lord in heaven-” Bitty said, hiding his red face in his hands. “-Bad Bob Zimmermann thinks I’d do great in the NHL.”

 

Jack chuckled and put his arm around Bitty’s middle to pull him closer. He had to admit that hearing his parents gush about Bittle’s skills on ice reassured him a little bit. Bitty had actually became a great hockey player.

 

“So now, what’s happening?” Bob asked when Bittle had calmed a little. “Are you going to say yes, or no?”

“Actually, we called to ask you. We’re a bit lost, here,” Jack replied, thin-lipped.

“I don’t even know if I want to try the NHL or not. I never even _dreamt_ I could before Georgia said that.”

“That, and, well, all we know is that George is currently _convincing_ the board that instead of using all our cap space on someone already, waiting one more season to sign Bitty is a good idea, and that there are a good number of scouts at Samwell games, but we don’t know who they are here for.”

“That and the whole gay thing. If no one comes out by then, I’d be the first player of the NHL out of the closet. Would anyone want to deal with that for a rookie, and would I, as a rookie, want to deal with that?”

“That’s complicated,” Alicia agreed. “But what would _you_ want? Do you want to play for the NHL?”

“That’s the whole point. I don’t know… I have no idea of what I want to do with my life. I’ve never dreamt of the NHL, you know? From what I see from Jack, I think I’d like it here, but I know I wouldn’t want to play for twenty years. Four for sure, maybe seven, but I definitely won’t want to push it until my knees give up. But I don’t know. Graduation is a year and a half away.”

“And there’s also the fact we’ll have to stay hidden for a while longer.”

 

Bob took a few moments, sitting back into the couch to think a bit.

 

“Ok, so. Let’s not think about the ‘what if’s right now. Eric, would you want to play in the NHL, after your graduation?”

“Maybe.”

“Ok. So here’s what you both are going to do; Jack, I’m sorry but you can’t come out now. At least, not as a couple.”

“That’s what I expected,” Jack replied, neutral.

“If you tell them now, the Falcs would never sign Eric. There would be too many accusations of you bribing his place into the team, using your position as a captain to have your way, or what not. And no other male league had to deal with two players of one team being together, as far as I know. No other team would sign him either, because two male players of rival teams being together is definitely unheard of. Also, too risky for a rookie. If Bitty signs with the Falcs, I’d recommend you both to wait for him to prove himself before coming out.”

“That’s more or less what we were saying,” Bitty said.

“Now, let’s be more practical. Eric, I’m going to send you the contact info of an agent…” Bob said, pulling his cellphone out.

“Kivel? I can give it to him myself,” Jack replied.

“No, not yours, someone else. Theophilia Roberts. I met her several times already, she’s absolutely great. She’s is mostly working with queer women players in hockey and softball, and she used to work for You Can Play before she became a freelance agent. She’s the kind of ally you will want, I can assure you.”

 

As Bob was saying that, Bitty’s phone ting-ed to notify the text message with Roberts’ email and phone number. Jack couldn’t help but look at the screen, and frowned a little when he saw the previous messages of the conversation.

 

“Hey, is that a baby picture of me-“

“Thanks, Mr Bob!” Bitty cut him, throwing his phone on the couch.

“You’re welcome, Mr Bitty,” he chuckled.

 

Wow. Betrayal much. By his own dad and boyfriend. And his mom was finding all of this _hilarious_.

Bitty had taken back his phone in his hand, and was looking at the text with a sad frown on his face. Jack could feel him tense under his arm.

 

“You okay, bud?” he asked, low enough so that his parents wouldn’t hear.

“Yes. No,” Bitty replied, just as low, before saying louder: “I can’t have an agent. I don’t have any money. And I don’t want to ask any more to my parents before I come out, because… because, and I’m a student, and-“

“And you stop here,” Alicia cut him. “She’s an agent. She’ll get paid by getting a commission on your contract.”

“And if there’s any need regarding money, we’ll sponsor you,” Bob added.

 

Bitty went still. Jack, not at all. He honestly was surprised his parents took so long to propose it.

 

“You’d _what_? Jack, tell them that they _can’t_ -“

“You wouldn’t be the first aspirant NHL player we’d sponsor-“

“-And definitely not the last-”

“-All we ask is, if it works for you, to yourself, sponsor someone one day-“

“-We really are not demanding-“

“-Yes, _but-_ ”

 

Jack didn’t say anything, just let his chin rest on Bitty’s shoulder while he was arguing with his parents.

If both of them believed in him enough to sponsor him, that meant Bitty had all his chances in the NHL. They never got it wrong before, for any of the very few players they decided to sponsor.

 

* * *

**Shitty, Jack, Eric**

_Eric  
_> Shitty, my friend (Kissing Face With Closed Eyes )

_Jack  
_>> My bro.

_Eric  
_> My model

_Jack  
_>> My brother from another uterus and ballsack

_Eric  
_> (wtf???)

_Shitty_  
> y jack ilu2 (Smiling Face With Smiling Eyes )(Smiling Face With Heart-Shaped Eyes )(Smiling Face With Heart-Shaped Eyes )(Two Hearts )(Face Throwing A Kiss )  
> whre do i need 2 bail you both frm

_Eric_  
> No bail is required, good sir  
> Just your impeccable investigation skills

_Jack  
_>> Was it that impeccable if he thought for four years and a half that I was straight ? (Front-Facing Baby Chick )(Front-Facing Baby Chick )

_Eric_  
> Jack!!!  
> Shitty do not listen to him  
> We need your help

_Shitty  
_> k what 4

_Jack  
_>> We first need to make sure that you will stay silent. Not a word to R&H or to Lardo.

_Shitty_  
> is itillegal  
> i hope its illegal

_Eric  
_> No it is legal

_Jack  
_>> It’s just that I’m not sure I, nor Bittle, should be aware of what’s going on.

_Shitty  
_> Ok the 1 who knws more phone me thn, no written proofs  
> Gimme a minute theres an emptyclassroom just there

 

Jack shot a quick text to Bittle to tell him he’ll be the one phoning, before making the call. Shitty replied immediately.

 

“Hi, Jack, my favorite goat.”

“Hi Shits. Listen, you must promise to not freak out.”

“Too late. You’ve just proposed right?”

 

That. Wasn’t what Jack expected Shitty to think.

 

“… No,” he said.

“Aww…”

“Not yet?”

“Aww!”

“One day I will, but not right now. We have more important things to deal with right now.”

“You tell me, Jackie-Jack, and I’ll help.”

“Ok, so. The Falconers want Bitty in the team, as soon as he graduates.”

 

There was no sound to be heard.

Jack panicked a little.

 

“… What?”

“You… Heard what I said?”

“Yes. I just cannot process it.”

“Well, it’s been ten days since Bitty and I knew and… We’ve been panicking ever since. I was about to come out to George when she told me that, so…”

“You came out?”

“I couldn’t. If they know we’re together, I’m not sure they’d still want him in the team. Two players being together? Probably way too much trouble. Probably. It’s a very gray area.”

“Ok, so what do you need me to do?”

“You’re still free next Saturday? I’m gonna organise a party at my apartment. There will be Samwell friends, and Falconers, and staff, and I’ll need you to chat with Georgia all night. Subtly ask her what would happen within the franchise, and the whole league, if it turns out that two players are together.”

“Asking questions, yes, that I can do.”

“Bury it under a hundred questions about how the league works, and relationships, and legal issues. I don’t know.”

“Do not worry, my splendid zebra, I will be great. Can we now go back to freaking out about _Bitty in the NHL,_ please?”

“ _Yes oh Lord_ , let’s freak out about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“Je vais avoir un gendre dans la LNH ? Enfin quelqu’un de la famille pour m’accompagner à tous les galas ?”_ -> "I'm going to have a son-in-law in the NHL? Finally someone from the family to go with me to all the galas?"  
>  _“’Cas où, t’as déjà un fils, c’est déjà pas mal…”_ -> "Just in case, you've already got a son, that's a good start..."  
>  _“Robbie, tu vas avoir quoi ?”_ -> "Robert, what are you going to get?"  
>  _“Alicia, schatz, viens ! Tu devineras jamais ce que Tic et Tac viennent de m’annoncer !”_ -> "Alicia, schatz [german], come here! You'll never guess what [Chip and Dale] just told me!"  
>  _“’Tic et Tac’ maintenant, parfait, j’me suis jamais senti aussi soutenu,”_ -> "Chip and Dale now, perfect, I've never felt that supported."


	3. Career plans

Coach Hall knew first.

 

“Bittle, can you stay at the end of practice?”

“Yes, sure Coach. ‘Got class at ten, though.”

“It shouldn’t be too long.”

 

Being held after everyone else left wasn’t quite as scary when you were almost three years deep into the team, doing great on the ice, than when you were a poor freshman who couldn’t be touched without crying.

So Bitty quickly showered after practice, and said goodbye to everyone going to class, before going to the Coaches’ office. Hall was alone here, typing on his laptop. He closed it as soon as he noticed who it was who had entered.

 

“Hi, Bittle. Sit down, I think you’ll need to.”

“Okay, Coach?” Bitty said, but complied.

 

Suddenly, he felt like he still needed a little bravado, great asset to the team or not. He was a bit scared, now that he actually was alone with Hall, and that the coach seemed so serious.

 

“Bittle, I got a call,” Hall said, and his voice was poised and serious and neutral and it was awful.

“Is that a good call or a bad call, Coach? No lies, I am freaking out a little bit.”

 

It could be anything. A team call. Something happened back at home. Someone was in the hospital, or something. His Peepaw wasn’t doing too great lately.

 

“Oh, no- I. Sorry. A good call, don’t worry. Bittle, an NHL team phoned me this morning. They’d like to invite you this summer to their prospect camp.”

 

Bitty just sighed with relief, and let out a small ‘thank God’.

Hall raised an eyebrow.

 

“You… Do not seem that surprised.”

“Oh, uh- Yes. I’ve been talking to Jack. I knew it- Uh. That it _could be a possibility_? Or something. Please don’t ask me questions.”

“How does he even know-? Well, that is not the point. As you don’t have an agent, the Sabres contacted me-“

“The _Sabres_?”

 

Hall frowned at him. Uh-oh.

 

“Yes? Hence why I’m surprised Jack would know about it. Except if you know something I don’t, of course.”

“Mmh. Yes. No. The Sabres, uh? They’re a bit terrible.”

 

The coach, being a good human being, reluctantly took the bait and accepted the change of topic.

 

“They are. But they also are a NHL team, so… What do you want me to tell them? They’re supposed to call me back tomorrow.”

“I, uh -just tell them I have an agent now. Theophilia Roberts. Should I send you her contact info?”

“Theophilia Roberts? From You Can Play?”

“The very one! I got in contact with her through Bob Zimmermann. Told me she and I would work well together.”

“I got to meet her a few times. She’s a hard worker. You’re in good hands with her. Glad to see you’re taking all of this seriously, Bittle. You can really go to good places.”

 

* * *

 

The party at Jack’s wasn’t a kegster, more like a get-together to celebrate… He didn’t find an excuse to throw the party, actually. He hoped no one would ask. It was really just an excuse to have in the same room Shitty, Georgia Martin, and booze. The magic would happen by itself.

Bitty had been, of course, roped all afternoon in the kitchen to bake mini-pies, and he had roped in the frogs to bake mini-appetizers and, as Chowder had put it so well when Farmer arrived at seven: “Bitty is a little bit nervous.”

Of course Bitty is a _little nervous_. Bitty’s whole life is going to change tonight depending on what his maybe-probably-future-boss will say. Not that any of the poor frogs knew that; for now, the only people from Samwell knowing about the Falcs’ interest and the Sabres’ proposition were Jack and Shitty.

 

 

 

**Mr Bob, Mr Bitty**

> Good luck for tonight! If it goes sour or you realise it’s going to be too problematic to be able to actually enjoy playing or anything you tell me and I’ll buy a team so you can play

> les Rainbows du Village ou un truc du genre

> le Village would definitely be the place for the first out NHL player as its star

> or what’s your favourite animal ? I saw something on your twitter about you being partial to otters ?? The Village Otters could sound good too!!!!!

>> Oh my god

 

 

“Jack your father needs to stop.”

“Sure. I mean I don’t know what happened but I agree?”

 

The guests arrived quickly after that. Most people from Samwell were already there to help to set up the apartment, Farmer brought the last ones with Nursey’s car at the end of the afternoon, and when Thirdy and his wife (the first ones of the Falcs) rang the bell, Jack squeezed one last time Bitty’s hand before walking to the door to invite them in.

 

Bitty was hovering next to Ransom, who was trying to say one word without stammering to an amused Tater, and Holster who was finding the whole scene quite hilarious. He was with them because first, it was really fun to see, and second, because from here, he could perfectly hear what Georgia could say as she was sitting on the couch a few feet away, back to him.

Shitty was talking to Jack while looking at him every now and then. Bitty pointed towards her with a quick nod, and Shitty went on the move, finger gunning and winking at him on the way. Go Shits.

He sat next to her without any trouble. First step of the plan went great. It was only sitting, but the fact that Bitty had even doubted it could go well said a lot on his entourage.

“Wanna share?” Shitty had asked Georgia, as he was carefully rolling his joint.

“Don’t ask me in a room full of my players.”

“Oh, yes, uh, sorry.”

“Try again on the balcony when Snow and Fitzgerald will have cleared it out. And don’t propose any to any of them.”

“I wouldn’t dare. I mean, I definitely don’t have enough anyway, so.”

 

The conversation between Shitty and Georgia seemed to go well from there. Marty’s wife, Gabby, joined the conversation Tater was trying to have with Ransom, and she was talking a bit loud so it was distracting and hard to focus on Shitty and Gerogia.

 

“Wait, really, that’s a thing a real human being said?” Shitty was laughing.

“You have no idea. I was _gobsmacked_. You just said? To _my_ face? That there were no queer people in sports? Oh boy. Oh boy.”

“The only thing as stupid I can imagine, is if she said that queer people _could_ play sports but were obligatory _bad_ at it…”

“Wait, I hadn’t finished my story.”

“Nooo?”

“Yeees.”

 

Okay, at least the conversation was on queerness and sports. Good. Now, **subtly** introduce the questions, Shits…

 

“Speaking of that, I have a question about queerness and sports.”

 

Fucking fuck freaking heck Shitty.

 

“Uh?” Georgia said, and Georgia was holding her fifth glass of wine of the evening so the lack of tact went over her head anyway.

“I have a lot of questions, actually. Being a gender’s studies graduate and future lawyer, hopefully in sports, and all that… I know that no one is out in hockey, but let’s say that, theoretically, two guys of a team get together…”

 

_Fucking fuck freaking heck Shitty._ **Subtly.**

 

Bitty was losing it.

Also, Tater’s attention had suddenly turned towards him.

Lord. He was busy eavesdropping, here.

 

“So, Eric? You the one we need to thanks for pies, right?”

“Oh, uh. Yes. Chowder, Nursey, and Dex made the savoury stuff, though- Didn’t have time to do everything, so I gave them recipes and prayed for the best-“

“Oh my, you’re the one who baked those?” Gabby, who was kinda drunk, asked, her mouth full of blueberry pie. “That’s the best thing I ever put in my mouth!”

 

Ransom and Holster choked down a chuckle like the college boys they were.

 

“That is _definitely_ counting my husband’s dick, just so you know,” she clarified while eyeing at them.

“Oh. Uh. Well. Er. Thank you? I _guess_?”

“Thank _you._ ”

“Don’t let old lady embarrass you, Eric. Even if she right, Marty’s dick has to be gross next to this.”

“Sweet baby Jesus Christ.”

“No I tell you, Eric; I thought Zimmboni brought pies from his girlfriend, you see? But actually it you! He only told us not long ago that it was his good friend from Samwell who did this.”

“Oh, really?”

“Why he didn’t tell right away it was not girlfriend?”

“Oh yes, Bitty? Why he didn’t tell right away?” Holster asked, with a huge smirk.

“Because he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he doesn’t want y’all to try to set him up,” Bitty said to Alexei, looking at his phone to ignore Ransom and Holster’s drunk jeering smiles.

“Oh, so he doesn’t have girlfriend at all?” Alexei asked. “Good. Then, Eric, you going to help me. We gonna find Zimmboni a girl.”

 

Bitty took his eyes off his screen to look at Tater, without even bothering to move his head. Ransom and Holster were probably having the time of their life.

 

“I am _not_ going to do that.”

“Bits, you could help a bro out,” Holster said.

“Jack is in dire need to get some. It’s obvious the guy is loneliness incarnate,” Ransom added.

“Aren’t you supposed to not be able to talk around Mashkov, you?” Bitty cut him. “Now, if you please, I have matters to attend.”

 

Matters were Nursey and Dex, who were talking next to the turned off TV, near enough of George and Shitty to hear but in front of them instead of behind; good thing, George and Shitty were both so engrossed in their conversation they wouldn’t even notice.

Nursey and Dex were debating about some random radio show. They couldn’t care less that Bitty was there. Perfect.

George and Shitty hadn’t noticed a thing.

 

“All those questions… It’s about Eric Bittle, isn’t it?”

 

Oh, great. He arrived at the good moment. Perfect. Right when Shitty gets busted.

 

“Uh… Well, maybe.”

 

**_Fucking fuck freaking heck Shitty._ **

 

“You see, I worry a bit? All of this is new, for him, for the league; because, uh, I mean, he’s been approached. By the Sabres. For prospect camp. So yeah I’m a good, curious, law student friend, his future lawyer, so my job is to worry.”

 

**_FUCKING FUCK FREAKING HECK SHITTY._ **

 

“The Sabres? I see.” George said, before sipping her glass.

 

Shitty asked something, but Bitty couldn’t follow because someone was tapping on his shoulder. Snowy.

 

“Hey, I can’t find Jack and someone got sick in the kitchen’s sink… And counter a little bit.”

“Sweet Lord in Heaven y’all are testing me-” Bitty said, striding to Jack’s (his) (their) kitchen, Shitty and George forgotten.

 

* * *

 

“So, what did she say?” Jack asked during breakfast with Shitty, Lardo and Bitty -the only three who stayed the night here.

“You were right. The Falcs are really ready to support Bitty, and I guess even you when you’ll come out, but knowing you two are together? They’ll get cold feet. There’s no one out in this league, no perspective from other men’s leagues. Too many variables for a rookie. Too much money involved. Too many risks of accusation of favouritism, nepotism, bribing.”

“So we do according to plan?”

“Yep, Jack-a-belle.”

“Ok great, what is the plan?” Lardo, eyes closed because of the light and totally hungover, asked, waiting for someone to fill her bowl with coffee.

 

Bitty, an angel among men, served her, and she began to sip immediately to hide the aftertaste of alcohol she still felt in her mouth.

 

“I go to prospects camps to see if that’s what I want to do with my life. Until then and after that if it is, Jack doesn’t mention me to anyone within the Falcs, try not to prompt one-on-one interactions between me and the staff, we stay on the downlow relationship-wise, and we don’t come out together before I’m well established in the Falconers as a good player rightfully here, hopefully after a season or two after signing in the NHL.”

 

Lardo still had her bowl to her mouth. The coffee was dripping off it. And her eyes were wide and she was totally sobered up.

 

“After you **_WHAT?!_** ”

 

Oh yes, maybe Bitty should begin to tell his friends about his possible new career plans.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say what you want but The Village Otters would be a team I'd buy all the merch of.


	4. Allô ça va bien ?

Theophilia Roberts (“Just call me Philly”) was an impressive woman. After a few phone calls, Bitty met in person two weeks after the Sabres’ offer (that she told him to leave pending). She had invited him to come to her office in New York City to talk more about how they’ll be working together and what to do from now on, so that’s where he’ll spend the week-end. Bob, as his sponsor and moral support, was coming with him, and that was a little reassuring. Because Bitty was _stressed_.

Even more when he actually saw Philly arrive (late) while he and Bob were in the waiting room, with a Starbucks in hand and her cane in the other, her heels sharp and her eyes even sharper, and she considered him from top to bottom in one look as she was setting her coffee on the nearest table before shaking his hand and introducing herself.

 

“Nice to meet you, Eric. I know we’ll work great together.”

 

And oh boy, work there will be.

The meeting lasted a few hours, where the three of them looked over what Bitty wanted – what to do – what to expect.

Bitty and the Zimmermanns had all agreed that it was in everyone’s best interest to tell Philly about Jack and Eric’s relationship, and the announcement only made her raise an eyebrow.

 

“Oh? Well. It explains a lot. I’m always up to challenges, do not worry.”

 

Since the Sabres’ invitation to the prospect camp (and Shitty ‘drunkenly’ telling this to George) the Falconers had also invited him to their own camp. And the Sharks.

 

“The Sharks and the Falconers camps don’t overlap. You should accept to go to them both,” Philly had told him. “Your sponsor is stinking rich enough to cover for the two.”

“If I go to the Sharks’ camp, my goalie will combust of either excitement or jealousy. They’re _his_ team.”

“Your goalie, Chow, is that it? He’s good. Think of going to their camp, and do great there, as a way to make sure they’ll keep an interest in Samwell’s team and they’ll keep sending scouts there. Best way for them to notice him, if they haven’t already. Also, we can’t let people know you’ve already pretty much decided with whom you’ll want to sign. Now, tell me, I’ve watched several of your games since Robert contacted me…”

 

When Bob and Bitty got out of the office, both had way too much information stuck in their pretty little heads and too many things to think about, but they were both grinning.

 

“That went great, I’d say,” Bitty said in front of the building.

“It did! I missed doing that. Now, let’s grab some extra-spicy curry that Alicia never lets me have and go back home.”

 

**Jack, Eric**

>> hey sweetpea (Growing Heart )

>> Your bed here is comfy I gotta admit

> Hey bud

> How did it go today ?

>> Great!!! Theophilia is great

>> We talked a lot, even if half of it was about comparing our experiences as student athletes

>> Also she scared me into being careful and listening to doctors/trainers when I’m injured if I “don’t wanna end up walking with a cane by 30” like her

>> I’m going to accept both the Sharks and the Falcs invitations this summer

>> Now I gotta find a way to say that to Chowder and tell Holster I Refused Buffalo’s offer

> Good luck with that

>> I told you this so you could help me

> Good for you

>> (Persevering Face )(Face With Look Of Triumph )

> How’s my dad ?

>> Good

>> Ordered extra-spicy Indian we regretted it as soon as we began to eat and I know the regret only begins

> Haha

> How’s my bedroom :-P ?

>> Is that an emoji im scared

>> Listen all is great I didn’t know your parents owned a small hipster apartment in Brooklyn!!! We should come this summer I’d like to really visit new York

> Yes but-

> How’s my bedroom ?

>> uuuuh good???

> Bits

> I was there last week for a game

> I left you a surprise under the pillow

>> Oh

>> OH

>> (Flushed Face )

>> Well well, Mr Zimmermann…

 

* * *

 

“Ok, so- I won’t come out for a while-“ Jack had said, one night he and Bitty were lying on his couch (read; Jack was lying on the couch and Bitty was lying on _him_ ).

 

Bitty didn’t reply. Just did a non-committal grunt. He had zero idea of what Jack was trying to say.

 

“But I… I still need to talk about it. About you. To people who are not necessarily both your friends and _my_ friends- I mean, it sounds stupid, but sometimes I- I need to talk to people who don’t know you…”

 

That wasn’t stupid. Bitty could talk about Jack to many people, now that he thought about it. His teammates, a fair number of them not knowing Jack well. As long as he didn’t give names, the people at the GSA that he began to go to under Philly’s advice. His followers. Jack wasn’t even out to his teammates and won’t be able to be before long.

Bitty snuggled closer to him, as much as he could while still being on top of him.

 

“I need to talk about being closeted in the NHL to people who _get it_ , you know?”

“Yeah. I get it. What do you have in mind, honey?”

 

Because of course, if Jack was saying all of that, it meant he already had a full plan he just had to follow.

 

“I… I’d like to talk again to two guys from the Q. Kent, of course, at least try, and another who was also on our team, and he was gay, and… I don’t know. Do something. A secret club for NHL guys in the closet. I don’t know. Do you think it’s a good idea?”

 

Bitty crossed his arms under his chin, to take a better look at his boyfriend sprawled under him. He was beautiful.

 

“I think that’s a great idea, honey.”

 

Jack had only needed half an hour to get the number of his friend (he had deleted all of his former teammates’ contact info after rehab), and he was holding Bitty’s hand in his while he was phoning.

He hadn’t told the name of his friend, but from what Bitty had understood while Jack was calling people to get the number, the guy was now with the Aeros. All the way down to Texas. All the NHL salary of the world wouldn’t make Bitty sign in Texas.

 

“ _Allo ?_ ”

“Allo ça va bien ? C’est Jack à l’appareil. Jack Zimmermann.”

 

Jack’s palm was sweaty. Bitty pressed a bit more. That’s all he could do anyway, if the whole conversation was to be in French.

 

“ _Jack ! Jackie Jack ! Ca va bien ? Que me vaut le plaisir d’entendre ta voix suave et sexy -qui m’a beaucoup manquée, je tiens à le préciser._ ”

“Oh, tu sais-tu. La routine. Mais c’est vrai que ça faisait longtemps Gothy. Ta voix de grillon m’a beaucoup manquée aussi.”

“ _Ma -sale ordure !!_ ”

“Haha. Ecoute, je t’appelle pour te parler de quelque chose…”

“ _T’as besoin-tu d’un pieu où crécher à Houston? J’ai toujours un bout de couvarte pour toi._ ”

“Haha, non; en fait, c’est… C’est de quoi je viens de parler avec mon chum, et-”

“ _Ton_ CHUM _? Ton chum de gars ou ton_ CHUM-CHUM _? Parce que j’crois qu’on a_ _à potiner mon gars._ ”

“Mon chum-chum. Du coup j’t’explique…”

 

* * *

  

**Rimousqueer**

_Gothy_

> And that’s why, my friends, that we are all gathered here together today

_Kent_

> y

_Gothy_

> bc the world sucks balls about the fact WE suck balls

_Jack_

>> I have regrets.

_Gothy_

> I know a few other closeted hockey players, I’ll ask the best apples to come here. We need rules, like the promise to destroy the face of anyone who would out us (Victory Hand )

_Kent_

> wait I never said iam in

> don’t wanna be in another secret gay club

_Jack_

>> :-(

_Gothy_

> it’s 2016 and I just saw a smiley with a nose talking with you jack is really like getting in a time capsule

_Jack_

>> <:o)

>> C’est un clown. Il est content.

_Gothy_

> Tu me tues vieux gars

_Kent_

> first ruleof the gay club is u don’t talk abot the gay club second rule is 0 french allowed

_Gothy_

> wait so you want in or not

> youre worse than my cat & the concept of the outside world

_Kent_

> Yes. No. Maybe. I dont know

_Jack_

>> Can you repeat the question

_Kent_

> Idk. Sell me this more. You wanna make a secret queer chat for hockey players but why. What were gonna talk about

_Jack_

>> Anything we may want/need to share with people in situations similar to ours across the whole league.

>> Encouragement, advice, warnings, a place to vent

_Gothy_

> cute boys mainly

> Jack wanna gush about his winger

>

_Kent_

> lol still on your crusade to find a goth bf loser

_Gothy_

> what, YOU got a boyfriend also or is jack the only one who gets to score

_Jack_

>> It’s no news I score more than you two.

_Kent_

> No im single but jsyk I get laid twice more when single than not

> so jack u hook up with ur teammate WTF

_Jack_

>> Former teammate. He’s still in Samwell.

_Kent_

> IS that mustachio

> the blOND FRIdge

> handsom salmon shorts

_Jack_

>> Neither.

_Kent_

> ok can u slip me handsoi salmon shorts number its for a frien

> it’s me im the friend

_Jack_

>> Pretty sure Ransom is straight

_Kent_

> yes but im Kent Parson

_Gothy_

> holy shit the only thing you capitalise correctly is your goddamn name I cant

_Kent_

> oh its tiny blond twink with a gay undercut

_Jack_

>> He’s as much of a twink as you are

>> But yes it’s him.

_Kent_

>

_Jack_

>> How do you both add those pictures to the texts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations can't translate how québécois it's supposed to sound
> 
>  _“Ca va bien ? Que me vaut le plaisir d’entendre ta voix suave et sexy -qui m’a beaucoup manquée, je tiens à le préciser. ”_ -> "How are you? To what do I owe the pleasure to hear your smooth and sexy voice -that I really missed, I wish to point out."  
>  _“Oh, tu sais-tu. La routine. Mais c’est vrai que ça faisait longtemps Gothy. Ta voix de grillon m’a beaucoup manquée aussi.”_ -> "Oh, you know, eh. Routine. But yes, it's been a while Gothy. I missed your cricket voice too."  
>  _“Ma -sale ordure !!”_ -> "My - You piece of shit!"  
>  _“Haha. Ecoute, je t’appelle pour te parler de quelque chose…”_ -> "Listen, I'm phoning you to tell you about something..."  
>  _“T’as besoin-tu d’un pieu où crécher à Houston? J’ai toujours un bout de couvarte pour toi.”_ -> "D'ya need a bed in Houston, eh? I always have a corner of blanket for ya"  
>  _“Haha, nan; en fait, c’est… C’est de quoi je viens de parler avec mon chum, et-”_ -> "Haha, nope; actually, it's.. I was just talking to my boyfriend about it, and-"  
>  _“Ton CHUM ? Ton chum de gars ou ton CHUM-CHUM ? Parce que j’crois qu’on a à potiner mon gars.”_ -> "Your BOYFRIEND? Your friend who is a boy or your boyfriend-boyfriend? Because I think we have a lot to gossip about my dude"  
>  _“Mon chum-chum. Du coup j’t’explique…”_ -> "My boyfriend-boyfriend. So I explain-"
> 
>  _C'est un clown. Il est content._ -> It's a clown. He is happy.  
>  _Tu me tues vieux gars._ -> You're killing me old dude


	5. Captains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meeting with friends and some of the group chat guys

“Okay, boys,” Marty said with a strong voice in the locker room of the Falconers’ arena.

“That’s us, we’re the boys,” Snowy stage-whispered with an amazed voice, probably because he was totally drunk.

“It came to my knowledge that Jack, here, (Marty pat Jack’s head) has been appointed A a few weeks ago, _and we have yet to proceed in the holiest of the traditions-“_

“The fine list update!” Thirdy shouted.

 

The entire team, all almost as drunk as Snowy, began to yell, whistle and applause, and Jack was mostly sober, but grinning. He felt like his Samwell teammates would have loved this tradition; when a new A or C is chosen, the team breaks into (or, more like, use one of the keys, like human beings) the rink at night and the new captain has the right to update the bylaws just like he pleases. In normal time, they need to be changed with a vote, and the captains have a veto right. And of course, it’s an excuse to drink.

 

“Jack, Jack, my friend, please remove the rule about eating chili on roadies,” Tater prayed. “I love chili.”

“No first, you should up the fine for getting caught having phone sex!” someone yelled. “Maybe Ditto will _finally_ stop-”

“Oh my _God_ Angle it’s not because _you_ have a sad sex life that we all have to-”

 

Jack took a sip of his beer, to hide his smile. He already knew what he was going to change, but it’s true that his teammates had a few good ideas to add. But first, he went to the wall where all the bylaws were written down, with his red pencil.

 

“First, let’s reformulate some of the rules, they’re too vague…” Jack began. “All those rules regarding WAGs? Let’s be a bit more inclusive here.”

 

He crossed all the ‘WAGs’, wrote something else, and showed his handiwork to his teammates.

 

“Here. _You shall not, in front of your teammates, kiss your wife, girlfriend, or_ fiancée _._ ”

“Wow!! Good call!” Tater laughed.

“Oh my God, you mean there was a loophole I could have exploited?” Ditto, recently engaged, whined.

“I feel like Jack’s rewriting of the laws will be _vicious_ , I love that”, Thirdy grinned.

“Also, it’s now forbidden to chew gum with your mouth open, I don’t think you realise how gross you sound; 100 dollars fine,” Jack added, writing the rule at the bottom of the others.

“What? No! You can’t!” Thirdy complained.

 

Indeed, Jack’s changes of rules was a bit vicious, but good-natured. He even removed the ban on chili on roadies, even if he felt like he’ll regret it as soon as they were back on a bus trip. When he finally capped his pen back, everyone applauded, and they all shared a shot. Now, it was time to be a responsible captain and convince Snowy he was too drunk to get his knife shoes on.

 

* * *

  

“Guys… I need to tell you something.”

 

Bitty had invited his best friends within the team for a dinner at the Haus. Big news should always be broken with food. And you should always wait until right before dessert to say them.

 

“You’re pregnant?” Nursey asked.

“ _Jack’s_ pregnant?” Ransom added.

“What? No?”

“Oh,” Nursey said, _disappointed._

 

Do it, Bitty. They’re your friends. They’re going to be happy for you.

Most of them know how important the NHL is.

But thing is, most of them knew how important the NHL is, because they dream of it at night.

Next to him, Lardo -the only one in the confidence- winked at him.

 

“I. I’m invited to prospect camps this summer. And a team at least has contacted my agent to sign with them next season already.”

 

It took a few seconds to sink in, but then-

 

“What?” Ollie yelped.

“ _What?”_ Wicks squealed.

“What team what team what team-“ Tango chanted.

“ _Which league, Bitty_?” Holster asked.

“Uh…” Bitty scratched his chin, looking everywhere but at his friends. “The NHL? Buffalo wants me to sign, I’m not sure I want to get to the NHL yet? Any way, I’m finishing my degree first, and there’s no way in hell I’m signing with the _Sabres_. But hum. I’m going to the Sharks and the Falcs camps this summer.”

“The NHL?”

“The **SHARKS**?”

“The _FALCS?”_

 

There was commotion all over the table, everyone was trying to talk louder than the guy next to him, and they all had a sudden fuckton of _opinions_ to share, and Bitty couldn’t even hear himself think.

 

“Everyone, shut the fuck up!” Lardo shouted, slamming her hands on the table. “Either you learn how to talk one at a time, or you won’t get dessert. So silence!”

 

There wasn’t any kind of silence, there couldn’t be. But at least, it was a bit calmer. Bitty was able to answer everyone questions (mostly from Chowder about the Sharks and Tango about everything), and everyone’s plates were filled when it finally began to die down and everyone left in small groups to sit around the TV or in the kitchen or on the front porch, or on the couch.

Bitty took one last plate, that he filled with a generous serving of pie he managed to save and a fork, and he slipped out to the back porch.

He sat on the stairs here, next to the guy who was already there.

 

“Hi, Holster.”

“Hi.”

“I saved you some pie, you left before you got a plate.”

 

Holster took the plate, but he didn’t take him eyes away from the sky. It was dark, tonight. A few stars could be seen.

 

“So. You’re scouted by the NHL, uh.”

“Yeah. Seems so.”

“That’s good. That’s great. You play good hockey.”

“You too, Holsty.”

 

* * *

  

**It’s a me, Luigi**

_Gothy (Aeros)  
_> Hello, newcomer! What’s your preferred name?

_(XXX)-XXX-XXXX  
_> I’m Archibald Molas, from the Oilers. You can call me Ark. Nice to meet you

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> Hi Ark! Great to finally have you there (Grinning Face With Smiling Eyes )! Introduce yourself more!

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> So hi everyone, I’m Ark, 2nd liner of the Oilers /w Anders. I’m bi, and 19. Anders told me a little bit about the existence of this chat but I never wanted to join because, well I had a girlfriend and then I was single with no intention of ever being with a boy

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> But then he saw this waiter at the Timmies next to the rink (Face Throwing A Kiss )(Face Throwing A Kiss )(Kissing Face With Closed Eyes ).

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> Can you NOT (Fearful Face )

_Lebo (NYI)  
_> Don’t you worry, this is a safe space here, you can gush about boys all you want. No fines, little chirping.

_Gothy (Aeros)  
_> Yes, the only rules be ->no OUTING ->ONLY talk about the chat in VAGUE words to other closeted players we can trust ->NO NAMES to anyone out of the chat ->respect everyone names, pronouns and ID (Hugging Face )

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> OK I get it. SO this waiter. Im so gay

_Kent (Aces)  
_> #mood

_Gothy (Aeros)  
_> BTW I’m Gothy, or Edgar Allan Doe, known in the vast world as Patrick Desmeules (urgh) or Diggs (URGH) dman for the Aeros, gay, looking 4 a hot goth BF, I made this group with my own little gay hands. When we’ll turn it into a legal association ill be like, the secretary

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> Arthur Zdunowski, 35, in a relationship for 19 years, so as long as you’ve been on this earth lol, defence for the Schooners, I saw some light so I came here.

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Jack Zimmermann, in a relationship since last spring, bi, forward for the Falconers.

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> Holy shit I know who you are Zimmermann

_Gothy (Aeros)_  
> (this chat was his idea to be able to gush about his boyfriend)  
> (hes like the president here)

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> Jimmy Fitz Robson, 24, D-man, Pens, I ID as queer, he/him, welcome

_N?ls (Pens)  
_> Nils Gilbsen, 23, bi, i have a girlfriend. D-man with Fitzy /w the pens

_Gothy (Aeros)  
_> why hello Nels

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> It’s been a while hi Nols

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> Nals is shy and won’t talk much here

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> Stop antagonising the poor Nuls

_Kent (Aces)  
_> And you obviously know me. Single. Gayer then all of u

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> “you “Obviosuly” know me ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

_Kent (Aces)  
_> No

_Gothy (Aeros)  
_> HAS SOME SEX BEEN HAD

_Kent (Aces)_  
> NO  
> I HAD SEX WITH ONE (1) HOCKEY PLAYER N IT WAS 1 TOO LANY  
> (Pouting Face )(Pouting Face )

_Gothy (Aeros)  
_> one day ill make you say who it was. I wont die not knowing

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Good luck with that

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> That’s going to be awkward as hell, but I need to tell you, Parson, Zimmermann, you’re both my role-models hockey-wise and I can’t believe you’re queer and how much that means to me

_Jack (Falcs)_  
>> Thank you.  
>> It’s easy to believe we’re queer, though. Have you met Kent?

_Kent (Aces)_  
>   
> My straight bro d4isguise is off the roof

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> No

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> Not really

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> No

_Charlie (NYR)_  
> Nope.  
> Hi im late Im Charlie, 23, they/them, goalie for the Rangers. Please don’t forget to misgender and deadname me out of this conversation  
> Abraam Shepherd publically btw

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> But don’t misgender/deadname them here.

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> Yeah of course

 

* * *

  

Samwell Men’s Hockey team didn’t make it to the playoffs of the Frozen Four.

Jack was so proud of his old team, because they fought until the very end to try to make it, and they played their best hockey.

The Falconers almost made it to the Conference Finals.

Bitty was so proud of the Falconers, because they never made it this far and they worked so hard all year long.

 

All of this was a bit bittersweet. So of course, when Jack arrived one afternoon absolutely _beaming_ to the rink to go work out with Tater, Marty and Thirdy, with whom he’s exercising during the off-season, they were a bit surprised.

 

“What’s happening, Jack? Got good news?”

“Oh, yes!” Jack said, and he was so excited. “Bittle just called me, he was voted captain of the team!”

 

The three others smiled at him.

 

“Oh, from your old team? That’s good,” Marty said.

“Bittle, the blond baker one, right?” Tater asked. “The small?”

“He was nice. You’ll pass our congratulations to him, okay? Now boys, warm-ups won’t do themselves…”

 

They barely knew Bittle, after all.

Jack couldn’t wait to have him join the team.

 

 

  
**ASS ASS IN CREED (butts appreciation group)**

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Hey everyone! :-) I have good news

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> Homophobia is cancelled

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> We’re getting rid of all the Republicans. Sending them into the sun

_Kent (Aces)  
_> my sperm donor choekd on a chicken boen n died

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> my mother who left to buy cigarettes 15 years ago is finally back

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> Trump is forbidden to talk ever again

_Jack (Falcs)_  
>> Well eh  
>> Actually my boyfriend got voted captain ?? Unanimously ?

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> Wow!! Congrats to him

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> (Party Popper )(Fireworks )(Firework Sparkler ≊ Sparkler)(Confetti Ball )(Party Popper )(Party Popper )(Person Raising Both Hands In Celebration ≊ Person Raising Hands)

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> !!!

_Gothy (Aeros)_  
>  


_Jack (Falcs)_  
>> I’m so proud of him  
>> He worked so hard to make it there

_Kent (Aces)_  
> stop mee if im worng (iml; not)  
> but isn’t he the 1st queer man ncaa cap

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Well I was a NCAA male captain and I regularly have sex with him so I don’t think so.

_Kent (Aces)  
_> *OUT smartass

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> gosh I wish I had a successful bf

_Kent (Aces)  
_> u dont want a bf ur aro ace

_Charlie (NYR)_  
> yes but if I had one id want him to be successful and to thrive w/o me  
> like moss and succulents??? they don’t need us to be happy

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> I think it’s good for everyone that you’re aro-ace because you wouldn’t land a lot of people by comparing them to moss.

_Kent (Aces)  
_> ud be surprisd

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> speaking of successful boyfriends who aren’t moss, Zdar, how is Johann’s salon going?

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> Great!!!! He’s so stressed the opening is next week! He’s done this job for others half of his life idk why he’s stressed now…. You’ll never guess what he said yesterday-

 


	6. Back Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer before senior year.
> 
> TW; -and summary if needed- cf end of chapter

It was 1 PM when Jack got the phone call. Bitty was in Madison for the summer, and once again this year he had invited Jack for the fourth of July. Jack, who better begin to pack his suitcase, because his plane was in a few days.

 

“Jack. Jack, cancel your tickets.”

 

Or not.

 

“Bitty, what is happening?”

 

Bits was sobbing over the phone. Between that and Jack’s own pulse that he could hear beat in his ears, it was hard to understand what he was saying. That, and also the fact that Jack couldn’t _focus_ but only wanted to _panic_ when he heard him like this didn’t help, and-

 

“They know.”

“Okay, love, hang on. Try to explain better, please.”

“My parents,” Bitty hiccuped. “They know. That I- I’m gay.”

 

Oh. Oh shit.

Bitty had planned to come out by the end of June, but to be honest? Jack didn’t expect it to turn bad. Not _that_ bad.

Keep your head clear and your mind sharp, Jack. You’ll be able to panic once the phone call is over. First you gotta help Bitty.

 

“Okay, bud. Listen to me. Are you in direct physical danger? Do you need to leave right now, do I need to come get you? Do you want me to get you plane-“

 

But Bittle had already hung up a while ago.

 

Bitty left Georgia the night from the 28th to the 29th of June, almost 36 hours after his parents learnt he is gay, with two suitcases, and his mom’s truck that he had filled with cardboard boxes in which all his life was stocked.

His parents’ weren’t there all day, Coach having practice with the peewee team at the beginning of the afternoon (and he didn’t come back at four as he usually did) and his mom left to church, crying.

Bitty felt terrible for her. And guilty for feeling so.

So, he spent all afternoon filling boxes and putting them in his mom’s truck in the garage, on auto-pilot. He only snapped out of it when his room was empty, save for the furniture and a bed without sheets, and he heard the front door of the house being slammed open. He could hear his father heavy and irregular steps in the stairs, going to his bedroom. He was drunk. And it was already ten PM. Bitty hadn’t had dinner, and considering that he didn’t smell any food, his mom probably hadn’t either. She had come back from church around five, he had seen her when he went out of the garage to get more boxes. She was looking like a zombie, and didn’t even look at him when she made her way to her bedroom. She was probably still fast asleep now.

Neither of his parents came to check on him, as they always did before going to bed. So, that’s why, without regrets, that Bitty took the last box, the one with his trophies and medals, closed his bedroom door, and went to the kitchen to fix himself a quick sandwich and take one last slice of Moomaw’s pecan pie for the trip, and then he dumped on the table the letter he wrote. And with that, he went to the garage, started his mother’s car, and left.

He only stopped after the North Carolina border, to cry a lot and sleep a little.

 

_Mama, Dad,_

_I’m sorry you couldn’t be the parents I needed._

_Do not worry about school, as the captain I now have a full scholarship and I’ll give you back what you’ve paid for the first three years of college (the part of tuition you paid, rent, extras) as soon as I have a job. You don’t have to talk about me to the whole town if it hurts you to do so. I hope you don’t mind I’ve used the conversion therapy pamphlets and inscription documents mama brought from church as paper to wrap my fragile stuff in._

_If you or anyone from the family wants to contact me, they know how._

 

_Bitty._

 

_PS: I’m shipping you mama’s car as soon as I arrive home._

 

When he arrived in Providence the following day, around midnight, Bitty was exhausted. He had parked on Jack’s second spot in the building’s garage, next to his Audi, and he had only took Señor Bunny with him up to the apartment, as well as his keys.

He let himself in, silently, not to wake Jack up.

But Jack was already up. He was in the living-room, in a T-shirt and boxers, on his laptop and with an open suitcase half-full on the floor.

 

“Bitty?”

 

His voice was wavering. Bitty didn’t reply. He put the keys away on the table next to the door, took off his shoes in one movement, and joined his boyfriend on the couch. Jack’s arms were already open to gather him. Bitty cuddled there, Señor Bunny between them.

“Bits… Bits mon amour t’es là-” Jack said, kissing his temple, his forehead, his cheek. “I was terrified.”

“No need to be.”

“You told me two days ago ‘cancel your plane, my parents know’ and since, I have no news. You haven’t returned a call, replied to a text, you haven’t even tweeted a thing, to me, or anyone else.”

“Twitter? How would you know?”

“I have a Twitter account, you know.”

 

Bitty chuckled a little in Jack’s crook of the neck.

 

“I haven’t looked at my phone. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re here now. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I… I left.” Bitty began, tearing a bit away from his boyfriend’s shirt. “I hadn’t told them, yet, I was gathering the courage… And then my mom googled me to share on Facebook the news of me being captain. But she didn’t come across Samwell’s announcement on their website, but on the interview I gave about being the first openly gay man NCAA captain. It wasn’t supposed to be published before the end of the month… I mean it was the 27th so I guess I should have expected it. Anyway from here it went bad, fast. My mom cried all day and spent the following day in church. My dad didn’t say a word, couldn’t even look at me. They only talked to me the first evening, to tell me not to worry, ‘we’ll figure it out’ and that I’ll get fixed. I remember how Kyle ‘got fixed’ in tenth grade. So the following day I packed and left with mother’s car. I’ll have to ship it back to her.”

 

Bitty had said that matter-of-factly. Distant. Jack rubbed his back, his eyes, sad, locked into his.

 

“My love…”

“It’s not me it’s them.”

“Did you tell them about us?”

“No, I… I would have if they hadn’t reacted this way. But I didn’t owe them this information. I wanted to keep you away from this mess.”

“Bitty, we’re a team. I want to be in this mess with you. Maybe if you had told them about me…. They know me, they liked me-”

“I don’t think I could have stomached the fact that they’d only be ‘okay’ with me being gay, because I’m with _you_. They accept me wholeheartly or not.”

 

Jack kissed him, a shy peck on the lips, and said:

 

“I love you.”

 

Bitty smiled, and curled more into him, his flank against Jack’s torso and his arm up to touch right where his hair and his neck met. Jack’s own arms were around his waist, and his cheek in his hair.

He was content.

After several minutes of breathing into each other, Bitty asked, frowning:

 

“What is this suitcase for?”

“Uh. Yes, so. We were all worried, we had no news. Shitty and Lardo were in Boston, so they proposed to stay at the Haus in case you came there. They told me to stay in Providence a day or two in case you arrived here. But I couldn’t wait and do nothing, so I planned to fly to Atlanta tomorrow morning; and Shits would have come here in case you arrived.”

 

And indeed, the laptop was still open on a Lilo search for flights to Georgia.

Bitty cuddled him even more.

 

“I love you, sweetpea.”

“Me too, rosebud.”

 

Bitty woke up, the following morning, with the want to smoke a joint. He stayed in bed for a while, sitting up to be able to see the city already living its best life.

He had spent the last two days dwelling on his parents’ reaction. That was all he had had in his head while packing, driving, napping. While talking with Jack. When they made love before going to bed, he had had at the back of his mind that knowing that he was doing that was making his mother cry. But Jack was kissing him and it mattered, so he didn’t even feel guilty. To be honest, he had wanted to do that yesterday night just because it made his mother cry.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW; unsupportive parents reaction to coming-out, mention of conversion therapy  
> (Summary: the Bittle parents don't react well to the fact Bitty is gay, making him leave Georgia to go back to Providence)


	7. Rentrée des classes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title more or less means "Beginning of the school year". That's quite handy, the chapter being set at the beginning of the school year.

“Bitty, you need to tell me: _how was it to play with the Sharks._ ”

“I didn’t, really, ‘play with the Sharks’, that was only a prospect camp."

“Yes but Bitty, hear me out; I made the mistake to ask Chowder how the camp went for you both and I think he nutted then and there. I need some more information.”

 

The prospect camp went really well. Not nut-worthy, but great nonetheless. Chowder also got invited, even if it was a bit last-minute, and Bitty was happy to be able to share this experience with his teammate. Chowder had been like a kid in Disneyland for the whole week, and no one could say he didn’t leave a strong impression. Off and on the ice. The Sharks will definitely remember him, by graduation time.

Also, they made it clear that they would support Bitty’s identity, if he were to sign with them. And everyone was nice, and they loved his baking. A lot of strong points for the Sharks.

Sadly for them, they had a major con, con being that they were in _San Jose_ and that the Providence Falconers also played footsie with him, and they had a stronger argument. (The argument had cheekbones sharper than his knife shoes, an ass more plump than a fine linen pillow, the personality of an over-eager golden retriever, and Bitty missed so much playing hockey on his line).

He told Dex as much, and Dex only snickered as he continued to peel the apples for the next pie. Most of the team and the new waffles would be arriving tomorrow, so they better be stocked for them.

 

“You definitely made wonders when you played together. I hardly was out on the ice at the same time as you both, but it was a pleasure to defend you. You were so ahead of the game and quick that we hardly had anything to do.”

“Well. Now that Nursey and you will be defending the first line, I promise I’ll try to continue to make sure you have hardly anything to do.”

“How considerate,” Dex said, and he was grinning.

 

He cut the apples in slices, and began to nicely arrange them on the pie crust Bitty had placed in the pie tin. Bitty himself was working on a choux pastry because he had had a furious want of éclairs for a few days now.

 

“Bits, I…”

 

Dex’ tone took Bitty by surprise. He threw a look at his friend; Dex’ eyes were focusing on the apples in his hands, but he was stimming more than placing them in the pie.

Suddenly Bitty remembered, a few years back, when he couldn’t even keep in his hands his index cards still enough to read them out.

So he kept quiet. He just put his hand on Dex’ wrist to remind him he was by his side.

 

“I tried. I tried to come out to my parents this summer. I couldn’t. When I learnt what happened with yours, I… I freaked out. I couldn’t.”

“Dex…”

“Do you think I’ll be brave enough to one day tell them?”

“Of course. You’re already brave to say it to me…”

“If I were that brave I’d say it to my stupid crush.”

 

The second he said that, Dex turned scarlet from forehead to neck. Bitty just gasped with a huge grin.

 

“Ah!!”

“ _Bitty no-_ “ Dex said, hiding his face in his elbow.

“ _William Jean Pointdexter you’ve got a crush-”_

“Cap will you please shut up before he hears that-“

“-Before he _hears_? _Oh my God you’ve got a crush on a guy on the team-”_

“Bitty by everything that’s holy on this bitch of an Earth please kindly shut the fuck up-”

 

They were rudely cut when the door of the Haus got slammed open, and then Tango and Whiskey strolled inside, Nursey on their heels.

Dex gasped. Bitty was looking at the scene like if it was Christmas.

 

“Ding dong it’s us!” Tango sing-sang as he entered the kitchen, his arms full. “Brought your butter!”

 

Whiskey and Nursey came in right after, putting the grocery bags they brought on the table.

 

“We took stuff to make fajitas tonight?” Whiskey said.

“Pointdexter, wanna help cut the meat? As there’s a moratorium on me using knives,” Nurse smiled.

 

Dex, who was being stared at by a grinning Bitty who was trying very, very hard to not chirp, was still red in the face and definitely, absolutely not calm.

 

“I. Uh. Come back in five. Have homework to do,” he stammered, before rushing out of the kitchen.

 

Tango was frowning, absolutely lost.

 

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I, uh. Was chirping his peeling game when y’all arrived.”

“Now that’s just mean, cap,” Whiskey said, picking one of the abandoned slices of apple to eat it. “There’s a lot of a-peel in how he does it.”

 

* * *

 

Bitty was sitting in the locker room after practice, still wearing half of his gear and downing a whole bottle of water and mindlessly going through his notifications, when he saw _it_.

 

> Bits, we need to talk.

 

He must have done a weird face because Whiskey, next to him, was frowning, and a few of the waffles at the other side of the room began to whisper. Bitty slipped his shoes, and not caring for his outfit, he walked toward the door.

 

“Ollie and Wicks, darlings, can you bring the waffles to Ford for the rink and campus tour? I’ll join y’all. I need to give a phone call.”

“A good or a bad phone call?” Tango asked.

 

Bitty just raised an eyebrow, and left (not forgetting to point to Hops that his Frog Blanket had to be on him _at all times_ , not in his stall, changing clothes or not). He quickly made his way to the docks, and sat on the stairs. To be real, he wasn’t really overconfident when he selected Jack’s name in his ‘Recent Calls’ list.  

Jack replied after only one ring. He was probably waiting next to his phone.

 

“I’m in the gym give me a second -No Tater it’s not my _dad calling-_ “

 

A bit of shuffling, and Jack said:

 

“Okay I’m alone. So, uh. How went the first practice, captain?”

 

He sounded nervous and unfocused, but Bitty let him be and acted as if it was a perfectly average social call.

 

“Great. There’s six freshmen, they’re all promising. I think they’re all scared of me. I heard Nursey and Tango yesterday in the dining hall, telling two of them all about the prospect camps I went to, my ‘frightening’ agent, how ‘like, at least fifty’ NHL teams were fighting for me, and how non-nonsense and merciless I was. I think the word spread, because this morning one of them called me ‘sir’.”

“Haha. That’s great, bud,” but he obviously hadn’t listen to a word Bity said.

“Instead of fake-laughing, why don’t you tell me what we need to talk about?”

“Oh. Uh. Well.”

 

Jack took a few seconds, and said:

 

“Mmh so uh. Marty’s getting a new house soon so Thirdy has both rookies at home and apparently it’s ‘a bit crowded’ so Georgia left me no choice because uh, technically ‘I’m single and I have a guest room’ so, uh, couldn’t say no, ihavearookiewhoscomingtolivewithmeithinkforthewholeseasonatleasthisnameisjimheseemsnice?”

 

Bitty took a few seconds also.

 

“Is that a joke?”

“Sorry.”

“We need to stay hidden and you’ve got someone coming to live with you in one of the two places we can even _hold hands_?”

“Said like that, that doesn’t sound ideal.”

“Find a way to make it sound ideal _, I dare you.”_

“Mmh… I’m going to spend a lot of time in Samwell?”

“Where half of the team doesn’t _and can’t_ know either, so we have to be careful around the Haus anyway?”

“Well… Maybe Jim will be the kind of guy to be always out and he will find his own apartment or a partner to U-Haul with in no time?”

 

Spoiler alert: not at all. Jim was a couch gremlin.

 

* * *

  

Jim (quickly rechristened Jimin when Snowy noticed all the K-Pop in his Spotify playlists) seemed to spend all his free time in his bedroom. At least he never commented on, or told the others about, Jack stepping out most of their free days or about all the friends he invited home and who slept in his room (often Bitty, but also Shitty to make it less suspicious when Bitty is here and also because good luck to make Shitty sleep anywhere else than in Jack’s bed.)

No, Jimin just had to open his goddamn mouth during a team brunch when _Lardo_ had spent the night (there was an art opening she was invited to in Providence the night before, that she knew would last until way too late, so of course Jack told her to come home after. She had left back to Boston in the morning, right before Jack and Jimin made their way to the local diner for the brunch.)

Jimin hadn’t said anything then. No, he waited until everyone was here and seated to ask:

 

“Jack, what was your girlfriend’s name again? It was awkward this morning when she was eating breakfast and I was in the kitchen and I couldn’t remember her name.”

“Jérusalem…” Jack just closed his eyes, ready for the impact. There was no way for him get out of this one.

 

And indeed, the chirping came and was relentless.

Jack tried to tell three times that no, they were friends, that they weren’t together, none of the guys had it. One of them ordered a “Congrats for the Sex” pancake tower, Thirdy took his hand to say “Finally. I’m proud of you,” like the freaking _dad_ he is, and when Marty asked Jack what she looked like, well, Jack grabbed the opportunity with his little queer hands.

 

“Here. It’s a picture of Lardo,” he said, showing his phone screen to the whole table. “Next to her _boyfriend. Who’s my best friend.”_

 

The realisation seemed to dawn on all the guys around the table.

 

“I see,” Snowy said, seriously. “A secret relationship, behind your friend’s back. That’s not nice.”

“Or poly,” Tater proposed.

“Je vais vous jeter sous un train.”

 

So yeah, as promised, Jack spent a lot more time in Samwell this year.

 

* * *

 

**Animal crossing enthousiasts**

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> Anyhow guys watch black sails you wont regret it (Ok Hand Sign ≊ Ok Hand)

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> but have you thought of the fact I cd want to spend my freee time doing other things, such as, not watching BS

_Zdar (Schooners)_  
> ? No?  
> it gay

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Black Sails is great.

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> look loser even bimmermann agrees with me

_Kent (Aces)_  
> GUYS  
> GUYS I THINK IM SICJ  
> Also high don’t mind me.

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> like what your coughing ooch poor babie

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> Sick how??? Like the kind of scares you get from unprotected sex (Fearful Face )??

_Kent (Aces)_  
> No UH. IDK OK  
> It begn a few day ago???? I was @my fuckbudy’s

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> oh my god I know exactly where this is going

_Kent (Aces)_  
> And all afternon I was thre n liek…. Horny.  
> But withou the sex part  
> Not that I didnt ant the sex but like. I wasn’t horny FOR the sex u feel?

_Lebrown (NYI)  
_> I’m cackling

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Haha :-)

_Kent (Aces)  
_> Thats not funnny!!! Mb I caight smtg!!!!!!!!

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> That’s NOT where I thought this was going

_Zdar (Schooners)_  
> Kent you SCARED me I thought you caught something bad like an STI (Fearful Face )(Fearful Face )  
> But you just caught a FEELING  
> YOU CAUGHT A LOVE

_Kent (Aces)  
_> I AM NOT IN A LOVE

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Congratulations

_Kent (Aces)  
_> We’re fuckbuddies

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> Aint he the guy “with whom you don’t even know why you try you’re both bottoms” from a few weeks ago (Thinking Face )(Kissing Face )

_Kent (Aces)  
_> Yes?

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> But you tried

_Kent (Aces)  
_> Yes?

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> You’re not in a love you’re at least in two loves(Two Hearts )

_Kent (Aces)  
_> I AM NOT MY HEART IS HARDER THAN MY DICK YOU MORNOS

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> morons*

 


	8. Happy New Year

**Animal crossing enthousiasts**

_Kent (Aces)  
_> okay I want to say im sorry yo have called you lot morons yesterday while I was high (Disappointed Face ) bc turns out im in two loves indeed

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> Aww

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> How you realised? He watched your favourite Reality TV trash without complaining?

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> He was wearing your hockey jersey?

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> He was talking to your cat?

_Kent (Aces)  
_> No… He was explaining me the rules of his favourite cards game.

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> AWW Tell me more

_Kent (Aces)  
_> Uh shut up

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> It’s a non-fine zone, you can ramble all you want about him

_Kent (Aces)  
_> Yeah. True. Ok, so-

 

 

**Animal crossing enthousiasts**

_Gothy (Aeros)  
_> I go on a roadie for two (2) days and Kent catch a LOVE (Pouting Face )

 

* * *

 

“Sweetpea! Finally we manage to catch up!”

“Hi buddy. Sorry, I don’t have a lot of time. I’m sharing the hotel with Tater and I have no idea when he’ll be back.”

“I miss you so much…”

“Me too, love. I should be able to come next Monday, though.”

“Yeees so, Jack. About Monday.”

“Bittle.”

“I have a meeting for the organisation of the Queer Sports Charity Fair? Last time it began at 7 and it ended at _2 am._ Like, Shruti, I love you, but you talk too much. But Wednesday night-“

“I have a sponsor event.”

“ _Shit._ Friday, what about Friday? Can you come Friday?”

“Game in _Edmonton_ , _so_. Sunday?”

“There’s the charity fair. I will be there all day, and all evening, working.”

“Fuck.”

“I wish.”

“Shit, it’s- I’ll be there Sunday, for the fair, I wanna see your work. I can skip the optional skate on Monday morning. We’ll manage to slip at least a bit of time together, ok- aaaand Tater is trying to open the door, I’m off. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

 

* * *

 

Christmas was hard. Mama had called. ‘ _What are your plans_?’ she had asked, ‘ _You’re coming down_?’. ‘ _I’m not sure yet,’_ he had replied, ‘ _But I’m spending the Holidays with my boyfriend. Can he come?’._ And her answer: ‘ _Well. How can I… It would be complicated, sweetie. We’re not celebrating at home, but at Judy’s, and we can’t impose her someone, you know-‘. ‘Okay then,_ ’ Bitty had replied, totally detached. ‘ _Let’s try again for Easter.’_

Coach had sent a one-line message wishing him great holidays.

 

So, his holidays were spent in Montreal. The minute Alicia heard about the phone call, she bought Bitty some plane tickets to come to Canada. Jack had a home game the 23rd, and a game against the Habs the 26th, so he could be here from the 24th to the 28th. Bitty will fly with him, and they’ll spend New Years with some SMH members at the Haus.

 

Bob was so excited when he picked them at the airport, the 24th in the morning. After asking Bitty if they could spare a few hours for a Skype conference with Philly, Bob began to rant.

 

“The Desmeules told me Patrick will be there also for a few days, you should ask him to come,” Bob said in the car. “I’ll call some old teammates. Let’s play a shinny or fifty on the pond, three-on-three.”

“Papa, last time Gothy went on this pond, he broke two fingers.”

“That boy is a disaster. That’s great, that mean our old-guys team will win.”

 

Alicia was equally happy to have them home. As soon as they dropped their suitcases in the entrance to hug her hello, she lead Bitty to the living-room.

 

“Look what Bob and I got!”

 

There was a small pine tree near the TV, not very green, and not decorated at all.

 

“We don’t celebrate Christmas so it’s the first tree we got! I have no idea how to choose a good tree, but obviously we chose wrong.”

“That’s maybe because we waited until the last moment to get it. All the pretty ones were already sold,” Bob shrugged.

“Also we forgot to buy stuff to decorate it, so,” Alicia took the box that was on the end table, “We only have that, is it okay?”

 

The box was full of toys of hockey players, and some Playmobil and Lego and an impressive number of plastic dinosaurs and cars.

 

“Are those Jack’s old toys?” Bitty asked, pulling out a big Action Man who had lost half of his clothes out of it.

“Yes! Well, now they’re mostly the toy box for when his young cousins are coming.”

“Well, they’ll make great tree decorations,” Bitty smiled.

“Do you eat something particular for Christmas?” Alicia asked, now going with Bitty to the kitchen. “Tomorrow will be sushi, there’s a great restaurant near with a lot of veggie options for you, but it’s the first night of Hannukah tonight, so we were planning fried food, is that okay? I’ve got this recipe you’ll _love_ , some Algerian pastry my dad taught me how to do -when I eat it I feel like I’m back home in Beer-Sheva-“

 

Jack looked at them go, as asked his dad:

 

“She won’t stop talking, will she?”

“She won’t.”

 

 

They flew back home weighing a whole lot more and with suitcases full of doughnuts, and Bitty had almost forgotten he hadn’t seen his parents since June.

Dex, Bully and Whiskey were the only ones here for New Years, so the celebration was a small one. Shitty, Lardo, Holster, Ransom and Jack had managed to come, Shitty with, under his arm, a bottle of wine worth more than their tuition. (“It’s an experience. I switched the labels of a ten-dollar bottle with this one that was in my grandpa’s cellar. Will he ever notice? I say no.”)

The wine was good, but Bitty had had twenty-dollar wine that had basically the same taste.

 

“So, how was Canada, Bits?” Ransom asked.

“Yeah, how was Hannukah at the Zimmermenn?” Holster added.

“Great! I ate like a goose in a foie gras farm. Alicia’s parents came from Israel for a few days, it was the first time I met them. It was impressive. They hardly speak English, it was complicated to talk.”

“Well, he won my grandpa’s heart with his cakes,” Jack said fondly. “We haven’t seen them at all, they were camping in the kitchen.”

“Saba Benzaoud used to be a baker himself. He taught me a lot,” Bitty proudly agreed. “And don’t mock me, _Jacob,_ if you ever want skendriettes ever again.”

“ _Jacob?_ Jack, _did you lie to us on your name all those years?_ ” Ransom cried.

“Oh my G-“ Jack hid his face in his hands. “Bittle why did you tell them?”  

“Because I also felt betrayed when I learnt your full name, _Jacob Laurent Benzaoud-Zimmermann_.”

 

All in all, it was a great New Years, far from the noise and the craziness of the kegsters. Just a bunch of friends, sitting on the couch and on the floor and sharing drinks. And talking, a lot. Bully had fallen asleep on the couch around three AM, and Whiskey and Dex had bid their adieu by four to go sleep in Dex and Nursey’s room.

Lardo herself was nodding off, probably thanks to the joint Shitty had lit up.

 

“Guys,” Bitty had said with a sheepish smile. “I’m going to sign in the NHL. I’m going to do it. I want to.”

“Congrats, Bits,” Shitty smiled.

“You’ll be great, little bro,” Ransom said, messing with his hair.

“Collective hug!” Holster shouted.

 

Everyone dogpiled on Bitty, messing with his hair even more and someone was tickling him and. Well. He was so happy, surrounded by his former teammates.

 

“Also, everyone, go to bed! You’re going to wake up Bully! It’s five AM! Lardo and Shitty you go to Chowder’s room, Ransom and Holster to Ollie and Wicks’!”

“Captain yes captain!”

 

* * *

  

**2018: Finally the year for KH3?**

_Gothy (Aeros)_  
> @Zdar BAM BAM BAM BAM DEBOUT  
>    
> 3 AM TIMZ TO GET UP

_Jack (Falcs)_  
>> Gothy, no offense  
>> Mais qu’est-ce que la baise.

_Gothy (Aeros)  
_> u not sleepin bro

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Plane.

_Gothy (Aeros)_  
> WELL.  
> I just got traded.  
> I’m leaving for SEA in two hours.

_Kent (Aces)  
_> in th midle of the godam night???

  _Gothy (Aeros)  
_> Better than the midle of the godam game

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Is this a happy trade or a sad trade

_Gothy (Aeros)_  
> Euuuuh  
> Ask me again in the morning rn I just wanna kill somone

_Kent (Aces)  
_> ddnt u CO to ur team n staff three weeks ago

_Gothy (Aeros)_  
>    
> They assured me that has nothing to do with me CO and it was already in the works BUT UH.  
> that’s why I wanna kill somoe  
> at the same time if they kick me out for that im glad to be out of there  
> idk

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Uh. Well I hope it was truly already in the works

_Gothy (Aeros)_  
> me too. I don’t want to hate the guys. They weren’t half-bad.  
> Anyway. Soon im in the plane to seattle.

_Kent (Aces)  
_> think of all the hot goth BFs ull get out of Texas (Face Throwing A Kiss )(Aubergine ≊ Eggplant)

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> You’ll probably get more goth boyfriends in Seattle than in Houston

_Kent (Aces)  
_> jinx

_Zdar (Schooners)_  
> I just woke up! Going to call the AGM right after, I’ve missed calls  
> I didn’t expect this! DW im the cap, I’ll ask to pick you up @the airport and you can stay with Johann and I until you find a place (the team knows about jo&i)  
> Do you know who got traded? When exactly are you arriving?  
> wait Francie is calling again brb-

_Gothy (Aeros)_  
> I need to ask a teammate to ship me all my shit. My car. Sell my apartment. My fish gosh what about my fish  
> It’s the third time I get traded you’d think id have the hang of it my now  
> The Schooners have a game tonight

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> Ok so I had Francie on the phone. The AGM. I’m picking you up. Can you PM me your flight details and your agent’s number-?  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Saba" means grandpa, it's not his first name. Here, Alicia's mom is Ukrainian and her father, Algerian. She lives in America only since college.


	9. Successes

“Jack I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up-“

“Bud are you okay? Can you breathe? Do you need me to come to Samwell?”

 

Jack was at the edge on his seat, his hand tightened on his phone. Thirdy, next to him in the bus, was looking at him with worry.

 

“No. No. I overreacted. Don’t worry.”

“You’re telling me that just because I’m in Canada? Because you call me and keep saying you’ve fucked up. Let me be worried.”

“No, truly. Overreaction.”

“Okay, uh. Care to explain?”

 

Jack had relaxed a little. Not too much? He knew Bitty a bit to well, and he had to be ready for absolutely _everything._

 

“I. Well. _We._ ” -the ‘we’ was dragged and said with so much vitriol that Jack guessed that the other parts of the ‘we’ were just next to Bitty. “We have misread a situation.”

“Bittle what have you done this time.”

“WELL. It was Ollie’s idea, because Ollie can’t mind his own business-”

“ _That’s right bitch,_ ” could be heard from next to Bitty.

“Okay so, I told you already about Dex and his terrible crush on Nursey. Like, Ollie, Wicks and I could just _feel it_. So uh, Ollie -and I insist on the fact that it _was_ Ollie- had this idea to get them together on a date?”

“Bitty have you really tried to set up together your teammates against their will?”

“That sounds so bad said like that! We wanted to… Nudge them in the right direction.”

 

Well. Jack had nothing to say against that, with all due respect to Shitty. If his _own dad_ hadn’t nudged him to Bitty, well… His life today would be quite sad.

 

“So well. The plan was to get them in a nice, romantic restaurant just the two of them, and it would have been cute and they would have finally confessed and all that, you feel? We would have told them the five of us would be going, a Haus-outing minus Chowder who’s got a date with Farmer, but once seated we would have found an excuse to go. Like, Ford was on it, she was ready to call me to summon us to a senior-emergency meeting or something.”

“What went wrong.”

“Well. At six Wicks went to pick up Nursey after his poetry reading or something, and Ollie and I hurried to the Haus because we knew Dex was supposed to be there. And. There he was. In my kitchen. Making out with _Whiskey._ ”

 

Jack couldn’t stop himself. He laughed.

 

“That’s not funny! Jack!”

“I’m sorry-“

“They’re together since New Years apparently? They’ve got a crush on each other since last year? And Dex doesn’t have a crush on Nursey, they just truly can’t get along?”

“I’m sorry but it is so funny. That’s not even misreading a situation, it’s being blind.”

“It was so awkward! I mean I’m _so, so happy for them_ and I told them so and I hugged them and I tried to fine them and Dex told me ‘I know all the new bylaws. I’m unfinable.’ and all and we got a text from Wicks like ‘you ready? I have Nurse’ and. Well.”

“What have you done?”

 

Bitty sighed, lost and confused.

 

“Sent Whiskey and Dex to the restaurant with our reservation. On my tab because I feel so stupid. Ollie and I are on our way to treat Nursey to a fuck ton of froyo. Like, we have misread Dex’ crush, that is certain, but uhm. We have zero idea if we also misread Nursey’s? I feel like a shit captain.”

“Don’t worry, buddy. You’re doing good. You really care for your guys.”

“You just find all of this situation really hilarious, don’t you?”

“You have no idea how much.”

 

* * *

 

 Samwell’s team was _fire_ this year.  

Bitty had an iron fist in an oven mitt. Ford was born to boss tall people around. Chowder was somehow _even more_ motivated since the camp in San Jose, Whiskey was a great center and he grew even more into his skills this year, Nursey and Dex had finally stopped taking on-ice their off-ice arguments, Tango’s speed could rival Bitty’s on the other wing, and Ollie and Wicks had built a solid second line, both in offense and defense.

They were good, and they were in Denver for the Frozen Four Final. The last game for seniors. For Ollie and Wicks, the last game at all, probably.

For Bitty, the last game of an era.

 

In the locker room, before the game, he stood on his bench, and coughed to get everyone’s attention.

 

“Boys… Boys, we’re going to be great tonight.”

“We will!” some of the guys shouted.

“And beautiful.”

“Of course!” Nursey yelled.

“I would like to thank y’all for this great year, and the great hockey we played together.”

“We’all thank you too,” Whiskey snickered.

“Will you all shush, now? Cap is talking. So, as I said; I wanted to thank you, guys. This year had been great. Playing for Samwell has been the four best years of my life, and they’ll never be replaced. Playing with you will be something I’ll miss dearly.”

“We’ll miss y’all too! Yo Ollie marry me!” Someone (not Wicks) shouted.

“I need to tell you all a secret. And it’s not official yet, so you keep quiet for a few more days, okay? Yesterday, before we flew there, I went to Providence with my agent, and I signed a contract. I’ll play with the Falconers next season-“

“Woh!! WOH!!”

“Bits! BITS _that’s incredible?!”_

“That’s thanks to you all. Hockey is a team sport. That’s thanks to you I got to flourish enough to be able to play in the NHL in a few months, and I can’t be grateful enough, except by trying to play with you one last great game. So let’s make the best out of this game, boys. Let’s play the best hockey we have ever played. We have no reason to have any regrets.”

“Let’s play a great game, regardless of the result, we can be proud of ourselves,” Dex said.

“No!” Bitty cut him. “Let’s win this game. Let’s destroy Denver. I want the ice to be red of blood, I don’t care if it’s theirs or ours. We _can_ bring this trophy home, so we _will_ bring this trophy home, whatever it takes.”

“Oh-“

“Uh-“

“Let’s do this!” Wicks shouted.

“Yes!” everyone finally yelled.

 

They won. It was a hard fight, a last-minute goal -an assist from Bitty to Whiskey-, but they won. No blood was shed.

Families, friends and the Wellies who made the trip there began to pour on the ice after the game, when they receive the trophy. Philly, Jack’s father, Lardo, Holster and Ransom managed to take the time to come see them play.

 

When Bitty got to hug them all on the ice under the maroon and white confetti, he was certain that trying for the NHL was the best choice he could make.

 

* * *

 

 “So, Zimbonni! I heard!”

 

What did Tater hear _this_ time. He had Shitty’s phone number by now, so it could be _anything._

 

“Your friend, Bitty-baker. He signed with the Falcs.”

 

Jack couldn’t have stopped his grin if he had tried to.

He did it. Bitty did it. Yesterday, he won the Frozen Four, and now, he signed with the Falconers.

Come September, they’ll play together once again. And way before that, they’ll live together, and, hopefully, they’ll be able to truly _be_ together.

 

“He just tweet it, few minutes ago! You could have tell me!” Tater whined.

“I don’t even know his Twitter’s handle. He refuses to tell me.”

 

Of course, count on Bitty to warn all of the Internet of his future before he tells his boyfriend.

 

“I’m going to give a phone call,” Jack said, and he was grinning.

 

* * *

 

Bitty’s graduation wasn’t bittersweet. He had expected it would be, since he began college. No, it was just plain sad, with a bit of happy sparkles, but a nice icing on a terrible cake won’t make it good.

 

He was leaving his home. Last night was the last he spent here. Almost all his stuff was already in Jack’s apartment (and his, now. That was scary) save for a few boxes that would be charged into the trunk of his car. He was leaving his team. He knew that they would be fine in Dex,  Chowder, and Nursey’s hands, but it was heartbreaking to know they’ll never be playing together ever again.

A new team was waiting for him forty minutes South. They wanted him in. He could do this.

His parents didn’t come. They didn’t call. While he was dressing, Bitty was keeping an eye on his door, expecting it to open to see his parents come in, saying ‘Surprise!’. They didn’t. They weren’t here, with the other parents, while Bitty went to sit down with the other graduating students of 2017. They weren’t in the crowd when the ceremony ended.

His friends were here, at least. Shitty, and Lardo, and Jack, and Ransom and Holster, and Jack’s parents, and Georgia Martin, and Philly, and they made sure to make him laugh and to take great pictures and to show him how proud they were.

That still didn’t change the fact his parents didn’t even bother to reply to his email inviting them to share this next step in his life.

 

That’s without any pang of emotion that Bitty wrote a cheque covering for his first three years of tuition with his signing bonus, and that he mailed it all the way down to Georgia.

 

* * *

 

**Rise of Nations est sous-côté**

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Hi everyone, I have a proposition. Everyone is finally off-season (Congrats again Charlie for the win, sorry Kent). So, if you’re interested, I’d like to invite for a few days you all and your significant others to my parents’ cabin. It’s near Montreal, and not too terrible to access via plane then car, but remote enough to not have to worry about anyone seeing us in there.

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> THE CABIN

_Kent (Aces)  
_> THE C A B I N

_Gothy (Schooners)_  
> ZIMMERMANN  
> IVE BEN DREAMING ABOUT THE CABIN SINCE YOU INVITED US THERE IN JUNIORS

_Kent (Aces)  
_> THE CABIN THE CABIN THE CABIN

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> … This cabin seems quite good

_Gothy (Schooners)_  
> IT’S THE CABIIIIIIIIIIN BRAH  
> The place Jack, Kent and I all lost our V cards  
> even if I still dunno /w whom K & J lost theirs  
> It’s the mythical place you always hear about in Alicia’s and Bad Bob’s interviews  
> The Cabin

_Kent (Aces)  
_> please can it be like, the week of the 20th of June im suposed to go to the inlaws in des moiNES I need an excuse to bail out and thE CABIN is a perfect reason

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Oh, meeting the in-laws ? It’s that serious then ?

_Kent (Aces)  
_> STFU zimmermann tell me when I get to be there

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> I don’t know, I was thinking about doing a Doodle ?

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> How college student of you Jacouille

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Maybe at the very end of June/beginning of July to get to celebrate Canada Day

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> Story time @Charlie zimms’ name in my phone is literally jacouille la fripouille

_Jack (Falcs)_  
>> Anyway Bittle and I-  
>> Patrick, niaiseux, j’vais te suriner pis j’vais te terminer. J’vais te briser en deux, d’abord ton corps, et pis tes caves de rêves, maudite tache. Tu me références encore une fois ce dull de film avec ta grande yeule c’en est fini de toi, colon. J’te pousse tu roules bâtard  
>> -are in PVD for the whole summer and we can get to Montreal basically anytime is best for y’all

_Gothy (Schooners)_  
> oh c’est bon pas la peine de s’énerver les poils de jambe y’est pas pire ce film  
> (Sun With Face ) jour  
> (New Moon With Face ≊ New Moon Face) nuit  
> (Sun With Face ) jour

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Gothy is uninvited to the cabin

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gothy's references are bad 
> 
> The movie is les visiteurs BTW
> 
> _Patrick, niaiseux, j’vais te suriner pis j’vais te terminer. J’vais te briser en deux, d’abord ton corps, et pis tes caves de rêves, maudite tache. Tu me références encore une fois ce dull de film avec ta grande yeule c’en est fini de toi, colon. J’te pousse tu roules bâtard"_ -> "Patrick, you piece of shit, I'm gonna stab ya and end ya. I'm gonna break you in two, first your body and then your moronic dreams, your fucking stain. You mention one more time this dull movie with your dirty mouth it's the end for you, cunt. I'm pushing you, you roll down bastard."


	10. Montreal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim is the same as the one I made for a Kent/OC fic a few months ago

Gothy was re-invited to the cabin. Only because Bitty forced Jack to.

Bitty didn’t know much about Gothy, only tidbits that Jack decided to share. It was rare that he opened up about people and stories from the Q; but from what he had heard, Bitty was convinced he was a great guy. Loud, and quick to be down to do stupid shit, but great nonetheless. It was certain from Jack’s tone, when talking about him, that he was missing his friend.

Also, Jack needed a buffer between Kent and him. A buffer that was neither Bitty, nor Kent’s boyfriend, and who knew them both enough to mellow things out when they’ll inevitably go sour this weekend. Because Jack could say all he wanted that Kent didn’t get over their relationship, the truth was, neither of them did and they both felt like they had something to prove to the other, if their rare meetings and one-on-one communication since the draft were any indication.

So Gothy, you don’t know yet, but you’re here to save the day.

He arrived at Jack’s parents’ house just as Kent was hugging Alicia hello and was introducing his boyfriend to her, and as Bob, who had picked them both up at the airport, was putting down his car keys in the bowl next to the door, and Jack was hovering in the doorframe between the entrance and the living-room with an arm around Bitty’s waist. And well. Gothy was Gothy.

Like for instance, Jack and Bitty weren’t animals. They were (tensely) waiting for Kent to greet Alicia before going to say hello themselves. Tim wasn’t an animal. He was polite and nice, even if he was very impressed, and he even had tried to tame his unruly hair at the airport.

Gothy had been raised in a cave. (Quite literally, his family had a troglodyte holiday house his grandpa digged himself.) He had arrived at 11 when he told everyone fifty times he’d be here at 10 (and his parents lived ten minutes by foot away from Jack’s), wearing black shorts, black flip-flops, _black socks_ , a ratty dark grey death metal band shirt, sunglasses, a huge light straw hat, and his straw blonde hair, both facial and on the top on his head, was a mess -as if he had just begun to grow it. Also, he had half a margarita in hand. And the face of someone who was going through a very bad hangover.

 

“Hey!!” he still beamed. “Même pas qu’on m’attend?”

“Non,” Jack replied with a mean frown. “On n’a pas attendu Patrick.”

“That was mean, and cruel, but I deserved it,” Gothy said, looking over his sunglasses while fingergunning. “Alicia, still as pretty as ever, if you ever want to run away from this gloomy life just tell me and I’ll come to save you to declaim you poems in the nearest cemetery under the moonlight, even if I’m a gay hot mess.”

“Well,” Alicia giggled, “if Rob doesn’t learn from your romantic gestures, I just may call you one day Patrick.”

“Maman!”

“Atsila!” 

 

Gothy just winked at Alicia, before he began to hug hello everyone else, having a nice grab of Jack’s ass while doing so and finishing by Kent -that he carried and turned around as if he was weighting nothing to him, and that was probably the case because Gothy was a good head taller than Kent.

 

“Kenny! Mon p’tit filou! T’as rapetissé!”

“Just you wait, I got my heels in my suitcase. Gonna thrust one in your asshole, you’ll see who’s short,” Kent (who is also an animal) replied.

“Still you,” Tim said.

“Yeah, definitely still you,” Jack added.

“I agree,” Alicia finished.

 

Kent just put his hand on his chest, with an air of mock-betrayal.

       

“At least,” Jack tried, holding Bitty a bit closer to him, “you’re not the tiniest NHL player anymore now.”

 

It was Bitty’s turn to feel betrayed, but well, when he saw Jack and Kent laughing, he guessed that, tension between them or not, this week-end will probably go okay.

 

Everyone was supposed to come to the cabin by Thursday (the twenty-ninth of June) until Sunday night. Kent and Tim arrived the twenty-eighth in Montreal, right after their week at Tim’s parents.

So, that was one day and one night to spend at Jack’s parents’ with only Kent and Tim, and Gothy, and let’s be real: Bitty would rather have them talk right now than once everyone is here.

The weird tension had come back in the beginning of the afternoon, when Gothy went to take a nap (he went to a festival the day before and only came back at seven am, hence the hangover, the outfit, and the margarita). It turns out that Kent and Jack can’t carry a conversation without someone forcing them to interact, and neither Bitty nor Tim had any idea of how to do it subtly.

At least, both of them and Alicia got to talk a lot while Kent and Jack were busy preparing the last things for the trip to the cabin in the garage with Bob. They were in the veranda, Bitty’s favourite room of the house because it had the greatest view on the huge garden, chilling with drinks and some pie Bitty made this morning. The doors were all open, so a nice little wind was passing through, and Tim and Alicia were both smoking a cigarette far away from the judgemental glare of their athlete significant others.

The three of them could relate of the difficulty of having a partner in the NHL, and well. For once Bitty got to talk about it with someone, he wouldn’t pass the chance.

 

“The worst thing was the injuries. And Bob had them. A lot,” Alicia explained, while sipping her coffee. “The first major one was barely a month after we got together. We weren’t public yet, and he was playing in LA, where I still lived year round back then. I was worried my eyes out when I saw it happen, and I ran to the hospital -to get told that I couldn’t see him, because I wasn’t family, nor on his emergency contact list, and well there wasn’t any proof we even knew each other. And his parents were still in Canada, and none of his teammates or coaches knew about me so they were quite surprised when they arrived after the game to see me crying in the waiting room and asking them to let me in.”

“That terrifies me,” Bitty said. “That something like that would happen to Jack and I wouldn’t be able to be by his side.”

“If it had happened, Eric, you can believe me; Bob and I would have been at the hospital in the minute and we’d make sure they let you in. Now you’re on his team, and they will probably consider you as one of his emergency contacts as you’ll be ‘roommates’-”

“Oh my God, you’ll be roommates,” Tim grinned.

“-but for you, Timothy, you should find a way to be on Kent’s emergency contact list. Believe me, you don’t want to be forbidden to enter the hospital after he got a skate in his throat or his head smashed onto the ice.”

 

Alicia’s words sobered Tim up immediately. Bitty also soundly gulped.

Sometimes it was easier to believe that hockey was all fun and games.

 

“I… I guess I should. I have no idea how, but I should.”

“Can someone edit their emergency contact list without anyone knowing?” Bitty asked.

“I have no idea. Probably, but Tim, you need to speak with Kent about it. Because imagine something happens to him, and you get to be with him at the hospital… Good luck to explain it if he’s not out. So, you need to both decide what to do and what to say in this situation. Would he be okay to be outed, would he prefer that you invent a lie like you’re his cousin or something? Would he rather not have you at the hospital at all, and would you be okay with that? What if he doesn’t make it? What if something happens to _you?_ That’s a definitely not-happy discussion, but you both need to have it.”

“It’s so ridiculous. ‘If I’m in the ER, I don’t want you there because it would be safest for both of us’. I hate to be in a situation where it’s a thought that needs to be voiced. Life is a bitch and society needs to go fuck itself.”

“Believe me,” Atsila Benzaoud said, taking a long draft on her cigarette, “I know.”

 

The evening was quiet. Bob and Alicia had turned in early, and the boys were all together in Jack’s bedroom, like if it was some weird sleepover with only people above twenty-two invited.

 

“Queer culture is doing during your twenties things that straight people get to do while they are teens,” Gothy had said, as if it could perfectly explain why he was wearing sunglasses and drinking beer and eating popcorn on an inflated mattress in the middle of Jack’s old room.

“I’m thirty-one,” Tim replied, from the sofa-bed he was sharing with Kent.

“You are?” Gothy said, looking at him over his sunglasses. “Boy you don’t look a day above twenty-five.”

“That’s called being a twink. I still get carded in half of the clubs I go to.”

“Babe you only go to _my_ club,” Kent frowned.

“Yes? I- _We_ get carded everywhere else?”

 

That made everyone laugh, and Gothy threw a pop-corn on the head of a now really vexed Kent.

 

“Ain’t it hard to own a _gay club?”_ Bitty asked.

“Of course it’s hard,” Kent replied. “The manager is texting me every five minutes because we’re out of toilet paper or condoms or for me to buy nice local bottles of alcohol when I’m on roadies and we have to look for DJs to invite and there’s a lot of special nights to organise and we have to find fucking ashtrays that people won’t steal and will use to put outside. Also we need to find a way for guys to understand that the backroom is for sex, not for coke.”

“I… I meant more regarding the whole you-being-in-the-closet part, but sure.”

“Oh, this little thing?” Kent shrugged. “Well. _Technically_ I own nothing, I just gave money to the manager when the place was about to go bankrupt a few years ago. My name is nowhere. And welp, what do you want? I’m a professional athlete. I’m hidden by a thick fog of heteronormativity. I could be photographed going out of my club twice a week and people would still say I’m not gay.”

“Pretty sure we could be caught on a date and people would say it’s no homo, because you never told you’re gay,” Tim added.

“Babe, I’m certain that I _could_ say I’m gay, and there would still be people saying I’m not gay.”

“Sometimes, people are blind,” Jack said. “I mean. My college best friend. Thought for four years and a half that I was straight. Even if I told him about a crush I had on an upperclassman back when we were freshmen.”

 

Bitty, who was laying next to Jack, raised up at this, his eyes wide.

 

“ _What._ First of all, _on who_ , second, did you tell him, in actual words, that you had a crush, or did you go full Jack on this? Because if it’s the second, you cannot blame poor Shitty. He tries really hard with you, you know.”

“Uh… ‘t was someone,” Jack said, a bit pink in the face. “And uh. I didn’t go _full Jack_ on him, it was pretty clear I was talking about a dude. He was just, you know. High when I told him.”

“Even ‘not full Jack’ is still too much. You speak a whole ‘nother language, Zimms,” Gothy grumbled. “We’ve known each other for years, years! Two decades! And yet…”

“This long?” Tim said.

“Yeah. We were in the same school in Montreal, same small hockey team. Well, we weren’t really _friends_ then, not until we were both send to Rimouski to play hockey; then you know. We only knew each other, were sent in the same billet family, so we latched onto each other. Met Kent, there, also. They were the first guys I came out to-“

“And I’m so proud of you, funky little gay man,” Jack smirked.

“And Kent came out also,” Gothy continued, ignoring him, “ _but I had no idea that Zimms leant this way and that I could have a chance with him until I got a phone call the other season with him telling me ‘hey gars j’ai parlé avec mon CHUM-“_

“Well, I wasn’t ready to come out,” Jack said, shrugging.

 

There was a moment of silence, and then:

 

“Also, Gothy, let’s be real, you truly had absolutely zero chances with me. I have standards.”

 


	11. The Cabin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW recreational drug use (cannabis)

They departed for the cabin in the morning. The other guys would carpool directly there from the airport with rental cars.

 

“Who will be there?” Bob asked Bitty, while loading the last bags of food in the truck.

“Er…”

“Oh, uh. No. I mean. No names, of course. Just a number.”

“Mmh, so…. Umh, if he does come… I think his boyfriend won’t be there… Maybe -I think we’re fourteen or fifteen.”

“Wow, that’s both quite a lot and not that much…” the older man said, shutting close the trunk. “Don’t destroy my cabin, please.”

“Mr Bob, please. As if I won’t be the biggest lightweight and the guy who’s drunk his ass off by nine o’clock. You better ask Gothy, visibly he drank so much during his festival that he plans to not touch a drop of beer this weekend.”

“First time Jack invited Gothy over, he somehow broke our swimming-pool. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but…”

“Okay, okay. I see what I’m getting into. I won’t drink much. Probably Tim won’t either, he seems serious, and older.”

“Seems good. Someone calm like this is exactly what Kent needs. I’m glad he found him.”

 

Bitty didn’t reply. He sure didn’t know Kent enough to know what was good for him.

 

And he definitely didn’t know Tim enough either, because the first night was a mess.

A bunch of rich young closeted queer men were in a cabin in the middle of the Canadian nowhere with no wi-fi but a thousand litres of alcohol, of course it was a mess, but still.

Bitty was a responsible man and host by proxy. He barely drank anything. He may or may not have smoked a joint the size of Rhode Island, though.

Also Tim wasn’t _serious_ nor _calm_ , he had just been so fucking impressed to meet _Mr and Mrs Zimmermann_ and to be introduced as his boyfriend’s boyfriend and a bit intimidated because he was surrounded by people he didn’t know but who knew each other. The minute the first beers were opened, he let loose and, actually, the guy was just as much as a wild ride as Kent himself, and he had spent an hour using his semi-pro poker player magic to fleece all those pro hockey players out of their cash, their shirts, and their dignity.

But Bitty had more important things to worry about right now.

 

“Jack, sweetheart, as soon as I meet the rest of the Falcs I ask to add a team law that forbids you to wear anything but tank tops,” he was saying, patting appreciatively Jack’s toned arms under everyone’s amused looks.

“Please, also ask for a law to show off his _assets_ ,” Simon, Anders’ partner, chirped.

“What, like booty shorts?” Bitty asked, while Jack was turning crimson and was trying to hide his face in the crook of his neck. “That’s not possible. He can’t wear booty shorts.”

“Why, you wanna keep his ass for you and you alone?” Tim smirked.

“Na. It just _won’t fit_.”

“What?” Kent was laughing.

“It won’t fit! There’s not one pair of booty shorts on this Earth that won’t leave him with half his ass bare! He has to get his jeans t-“

“Bitty, for the love of pies, please shut the fuck up,” Jack groaned, still hiding his face.

 

Bitty chuckled a little, and the others laughed whole-heartly -especially when Bitty tapped Jack’s shoulder in compassion but was mouthing to them all ‘ _tailored’_ , because the world needs to know how ridiculous this boy’s ass is.

 

It’s about around this time that Charlie barged on the patio, where everyone was hanging out, with Gothy and Archie on their toe, a towel on their shoulder, and a lot of packages in their arms.

 

“Guys I need help and those two are too high to do anything!”

“We are _not_ ,” Gothy frowned.

“We are. We so, so are,” Archie said, munching on a slice of pie he probably had found somewhere in the kitchen.

“What do you need help with?” Jack asked.

“My hair.”

 

Indeed, the packages in Charlie’s arms were hair dyes that seemed really flashy and some bleach.

That wasn’t a good idea, Charlie.

 

“That’s a brilliant idea, Charlie!” Bitty yelped. “I want to do my hair too. Like, bright blue.”

“Maybe you should wait tomorrow when you’re sober, bud,” Jack said. “You too, Charlie.”

“I am totally, one hundred percent sober. I haven’t touched even a beer yet. So, will someone help or should I risk asking Gothy to use hair clippers on my head?”

“Oh my God, give me that”, Johann, Zdar’s partner, said as he got up. He was still far from drunk. “I’m a hairdresser. I can help you out.”

“Okay, if you promise me you’re not the one who cut Zdar’s hair.”

“Arthur’s terrible capillary’s choices are of his own intent and I am not to blame for any of them.”

“It will do.”

 

Bitty, who suddenly found a passion in hair dyes and funky colours, decided to follow them to the bathroom -not without patting Jack on the head before leaving, telling him to be good while he was away.

Johann was already reading the different packages when Bitty arrived in the room and sat on the toilet to watch them, and Charlie was sitting on the edge of the bathtub while humming something under their breath.

Bitty had a hard time understanding Charlie. He only knew what Jack had told him during the two years of the chat, plus what he himself saw in the few weeks since Bitty had signed with the Falcs and had been added, but… They seemed weird, even for a goalie.

Apparently the fella co-lived with a bunch of friends who organised an anarchist queer community in the middle of New York, and most of their salary (like, a _huge_ most) was sent to charity. Bitty had a hundred and a half questions about how it worked and which charities he worked with, but he was a bit too high right now.

He just kept watching Johann, then. It was soothing.

 

“Ok. So, it’s shitty hair dye. It will fade pastel within the week and be gone way before the beginning of the season. Also, terrible bleach.”

“Yeah. Too bad. I just need to do something to not look like a straight boy right now. It’s the holidays I do what I want, I’ll shave it all by August.”

“Ok. What do you want? A cut or just some dye work?”

“Can you maybe do an undercut? And some pattern in my hair with all the colors?”

“An undercut that I can do, several colours also, but I don’t have the tools to do nice patterns.”

“Just go wild then. I like the pink and the violet the better. You can use the baby blue on Bitty.”

 

Said Bitty’s face lit up when he heard that. Johann, though, cut his dreams and hopes short.

 

“I will do no such thing. If you still want to, Bitty, ask me tomorrow when you’re sober.”

“Oh…”

 

Bitty stayed a solid half an hour on the toilet lid, watching Charlie’s ginger curls get cut and bleached, thinking ‘God I wish that were me.’

It was a bit like in first year, when he was so envious of the basic gay boy undercut that everyone around him seemed to be sporting, while he was still stuck with the Mama-Bittle approved nice boy hair. It took him a whole year to decide to chop it as he wanted to.

And then the fire alarms went off, followed by screams and some “Turn it off turn it off!”

 

“Shit. I better go before the cabin Bad Bob left under my supervision gets burnt to the ground.”

“That would be sad, indeed,” Charlie said, not sad at all, while Johann was painting their head.

 

The screams came from the kitchen. Kent, Tim and Archie were around the open oven, that was full of thick, black smoke, and they were trying to get it out through the open windows.

 

“The fuck have you done.”

“Uh. Hi Bitty,” Kent tried.

“We wanted to heat up some food, quickly?” Archie began. “It’s written on the box to heat it ten minutes at 300°F?”

“So we tried to heat it three minutes at 900°F. Nouls told us it would be good idea.”

“Did you just shove some lasagne in a plastic box into the self-cleaning cycle of the oven because Nals told you so?”

“Now that you say it, it sounds like a bad idea,” Tim said.

“You’re thirty-one, how did you survive this long?” Bitty asked.

“Take-out mostly,” Kent replied for him; and then, to Tim’s frowning face: “What? I’m not wrong.”

 

The smoke had gone for the most part. In the middle of the oven, there was the black calcinated lasagne serving, that was more looking like a puck than anything else right now.

 

“Please, tell me that’s the only issue we’ll have tonight. I’m too high to deal with anything right now.”

“Gothy puked in the pool,” Tim said right away.

“Fidji disappeared an hour ago and we have no idea where is,” Kent added.

“Sim is in the upstairs bathroom with Camilo because he opened his head when falling,” Archie finished.

“Fuck everyone,” Bitty said, and he left the kitchen, not without taking a beer on his way out.

 

He joined Jack on the porch, who was sitting on the stairs with Anders, Zdar, Lebo and Camilo.

 

“Aren’t you patching up Sim?” Bitty asked Camilo.

“He just needed a _bandage._ Everyone freaked out and sent me to take care of him, but really there wasn’t much I could do.”

“To be fair, Sims freaks out for any little amount of blood,” Anders explained. “One day I cut my finger while cooking and he fainted. He can’t watch hockey games.”

“Complicated to go out with a hockey player, then,” Lebo said.

 

Lebo didn’t have this problem. He was together with Camilo, who was the physician of the New York Islanders team (that’s actually how they met; freshly-traded Lebo couldn’t take his eyes off this hot doctor talking with the coaches while he was skating, and he rammed his face into the wall. Sprained wrist.)

 

“But you’re joining the Old Geezers Club, Bits?” Jack asked.

“ _Yes_. Sometimes a boy needs to hang out with thirty-something years old and an old gentleman stuck in a young body, instead of with a bunch of man-children burning down the kitchen.”

“ _What?_ ” Jack’s eyes had grown wide.

“I saved it! I think! Good thing all of those guys are rich because they wouldn’t survive without take out!”

“Oh my…” Camilo sighed.

“What were y’all talking about?” Bitty asked, to try to change the subject to something that wouldn’t upset Jack.

“Zdar was showing us his wedding pictures,” Lebo said.

 

Bitty took a second.

 

“You got married?!”

“Yes! Last week,” Zdar explained. “As much as a secret ceremony as possible, we only had two of our friends as witnesses, we took a few pictures and then we went to gorge ourselves on the best restaurant of the city. Told a few other friends and our families the following day. We plan to keep it secret as long as possible, maybe have a real reception when I’ll retire or if I’m outed. I guess it was safer to not get married, but hey? We’ve been together since we’re sixteen, so it’s been -almost twenty years, more than half of our lives- so. It’s more surprising we waited that long.

 

In the few pictures, Zdar and Johann seemed happy, dressed with nice slacks and shirts and holding their wedding certificate.

 

“My contract ends next season. We’ll maybe try for adoption once I’m retired? We’ve always wanted to be parents, especially Johann.”

“I’m sure you’ll be great.”

 

Bitty set himself more comfortably between Jack’s legs, his beer forgotten on the floor, and the Old Geezer Club went silent. Just enjoying the muffled music coming from inside, and the nature sounds from around them. The wind and the cold of the night. Each other’s presence. The fact that they could hold hands with their most important person if they wanted to.

 

The morning was complicated. Everyone was dealing with their hangovers, and the very few who stayed sober were dealing with the utter _mess_ that was the Cabin.

 

“Oh Lord, who _puked_ in the swimming-pool?” Jack panicked as he rushed inside to the living-room where a good part of the guests had crashed.

“Gothy did,” Kent, who was a bit of a rat, snitched right away before falling back asleep.

“Where’s Gothy?”

“In the bathtub,” Camilo, one of the very few guys already up, said. “Fell asleep there.”

 

Bitty was himself still merging and sipping his coffee. He’ll let Jack deal with this. He was a big boy.

 

“Gothy j’va t’buter crisse !” they heard from the bathroom. “La dernière fois qu’tu viens tu m’casses la piscine -et now tu barfes dedans ! That’s it j’en ai marre de toi ! T’as vraiment été élevé par des chameaux !”

“Câlisse… J’ai les yeux dans’ graisse de binne…”

“J’m’en bats les gosses, tu m’nettoyes ça avant que j’te dumpe dans les ordures, c’pas ma faute si tu sais pas boire- ”

“C’est bon, c’est bon, je ma lève…”

 

They heard some commotion, as if Gothy was trying to get himself out of the tub, and then:

 

“Mandieu Jack, qu’est-ce tu sens le swing…”

“Gothy, avec tout mon amour, si t’ouvres encore une fois ta yeule je t’assassine.”

“Que trépasse si je faiblis, Jacouille.”

“T’es mort.”

 

The second night was calmer. The guys were all gathered near the lake next to the Cabin, around a camp fire with homemade marshmallows and other delicacies made by Bitty and some commis chefs. Gothy had brought a guitar, but it was Fidji (who had miraculously reappeared at ten am- he had decided to go on an impromptu drunk hike in the middle of the night, hence why no one could find him) who was playing the most. His repertoire was suited to the tastes of much more people.

Jack was next to Bitty, his arm around his waist, and he hadn’t talked much of the whole night. He was humming along to the songs, answering when asked something, taking a few pictures with the DSLR he had around his neck, but other than that… He was tense. More than usual.

Kent, sitting a bit farther away, in between the legs of Tim, who was sitting on one of the stumps, wasn’t talking much either. When Charlie (and their so soft, so shiny, so pink and purple new hair, Bitty was _jealous_ ) began to tell a story their retail-worker roommate shared, Kent kissed Tim’s hand and excused himself. Bitty was looking at him walking down the lake to sit down close to the water, probably far from the group to not hear them much but still see them.

 

“Go talk to him,” Bitty shushed to his boyfriend.

“I don’t have much to tell him. I don’t want to.” Jack replied, but he had been watching Kent walk away and was still staring at him.

“Jack. It’s been three days you don’t speak directly to each other and you only interact when we force you to. You both have a hundred things to tell the other. You go talk to him now.”

 

To prove how serious he was, Bitty pinched Jack’s wrist to get his arm away from his waist. Jack yelped, but finally sighed when he saw his boyfriend’s obstinate face. He wouldn’t win this one. So, he got up and walked to where Kent was. Bitty looked at him until he was sitting down next to Kent; when he turned his attention back to the group, he saw that Tim was also looking at Jack go. When their eyes met, both nodded. Their boyfriends were idiots.

 

“And then-“ Charlie was telling. “The _police_ arrived. Like, on their break, to buy food. And the weird guy was still naked in the middle of the restaurant.”

“Wait, so that was before or after the lady peed her pants because she considered there was too much queue?”

“Archie, everything happened in a span of ten seconds-“

 

When Jack and Kent came back forty minutes later, both had red eyes. Bitty didn’t point out that Jack was still sniffing a little, and he just sneaked his hand behind him to stroke his back. Tim had sat on the floor, so Kent, who looked just as out of it, could get on the stump behind him and he was the one between his legs now.

 

“Feeling better?” Bitty asked.

“Yeah. No. Probably tomorrow morning. We needed to talk, not to have a _nice_ talk _._ ”

 

Bitty stroked Jack’s back a bit more, and Jack leant into him to watch the fire.

Gothy, next to Bitty, was probably happy to see his friend back because he soon began to excitedly talk to him about the last project their mothers worked on together (Gothy’s mom was a producer), and Jack mellowed down a tiny bit.

 

That is, of course, until Nils, next to Jack, spilled some of his beer on Jack’s camera.

Gothy, a man of all memes, knew that sometimes you had a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

 

“Ah bah bravo Nils ! Super pour l’appareil photo, génial !” he shouted, and Bitty could feel Jack next to him trying not to laugh. “J’te r’mercie ! Il est foutu c’est pas grave hein !”

“T’es vraiment qu’un sale petit con.”

  
Jack’s deadpan intervention was probably hilarious, because Gothy was _hooting_ and Charlie and Anders were laughing and Jack was grinning because he was so proud of himself. Nils was mumbling about people only getting his name right to mock him, Bitty noticed that Kent was grinning too while explaining to Tim and Lebo the joke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“Gothy j’va t’buter crisse ! La dernière fois qu’tu viens tu m’casses la piscine -et now tu barfes dedans ! That’s it j’en ai marre de toi ! T’as vraiment été élevé par des chameaux !”_ -> "Gothy I'm gonna kill you Christ! Last time y'came you broke the swimming pool - and now you barf in it! That's it I can't anymore with ya! You've really been raised by camels!"
> 
> _"Câlisse… J’ai les yeux dans’ graisse de binne…”_ -> "God... I'm so hungover....">
> 
> _“J’m’en bats les gosses, tu m’nettoyes ça avant que j’te dumpe dans les ordures, c’pas ma faute si tu sais pas boire- ”_ -> "I don't give a flying shit, you clean everything up before I dump you with the trash, 'ts not my fault You don't know how to drink-"
> 
> _“C’est bon, c’est bon, je ma lève…”_ -> "Jaja, I'm gettin' up"
> 
> _“Mandieu Jack, qu’est-ce tu sens le swing…”_ -> "Magod Jack, you stink sweat..."
> 
> _“Gothy, avec tout mon amour, si t’ouvres encore une fois ta yeule je t’assassine.”_ -> "Gothy with all my love, if you open your mouth one more time I'm murdering ya."
> 
> The campfire reference is the gold video _AH BAH BRAVO NILS !_


	12. First steps in so many people's dream

Today was Bitty’s first day. The day he officially meets the whole team. He woke up to all kind of variations of “Go Get ‘Em, Tiger!” on Samwell’s group chat, a notification saying today is going to be rainy, and a grumpy Jack who was mumbling ‘cinq minutes’ under his pillow when the alarm rang. Sadly for you, Jack, the nice and naïve days of off-season where you could sleep in until nine are over.

Meeting the team was great and nice and probably eased out because Bitty had brought his weight in pastries. In the meeting room, around a healthy buffet to celebrate the beginning of a new year, Georgia had introduced both Bitty and the other rookie, Franck (a promising draft pick), to the other players (most of them being already friendly towards Bitty as they met a few times, and it visibly made Franck really anxious), to the coaches, the trainers, the therapists, the board, the doctors, the publicists, and, after the small get-together, they were rushed to Nate’s office. Nate, the nutritionist.  

 

“Hi, hi, sit down,” Nate the nutritionist said behind his desk, with a smile way too big to be sincere.

“Hello to you,” Bitty replied, with the exact same smile, and Franck next to him was shivering. Poor boy.

 

Nate the nutritionist slipped a stack of papers to each.

 

“Diet plans. To follow religiously, it goes without saying,” he said, glaring at Bitty.

“Certainly a lot of work from you, thank you,” Bitty retorted, not looking away for one second.

“Yours is vegetarian, do not worry for that. And it proposes recipes needing a bit of cooking skills, but it won’t be a problem, will it?”

“You’ve done your homework. Indeed, it won’t.”

“Nice pies you brought today, Bittle. You really are a good baker.”

“Well. Lot of hard work.”

 

Nate the nutritionist was still grinning with this slasher smile. Bitty was mimicking him, but he was tense, and focusing on not fidgeting and staying still.

 

“I know, I follow your Vlog.”

“A proof of good taste.”

“Sad that now, those good Southern comfort pies recipes will get rare. Sad, sad, that you’ve got such a strict diet plan to follow. With very little sugar, and fat.”

“Good thing I’ll make do. There’s always a way to make a good ol’ recipe healthier.”

“Even sadder now that you’ve got such a good kitchen to work in. I’ve seen Jack’s oven. A sturdy, beautiful Viking. She’s perfect.”

“She is, indeed.”

“That would be _a shame_ if something happened to her.”

“Did you just threaten his oven?” Franck screeched.

“Of course, nothing will happen to her,” Bitty said. “She’s strong. Stronger than a human spine.”

“ _Did you just threaten his **life**?_”

“Of course, nothing needs to happen if the diet plan and the cheats day are respected,” Nate the nutritionist simply replied. “For you, and all your teammates.”

“That’s without saying.”

 

When Bitty and Franck left, they shook Nate’s hand. Legend said that Nate and Bitty almost managed to break each other’s fingers.

 

* * *

 

“Third line; Bittle, Lee, Rocher.”

 

Jack smiled at Bitty, who was vibrating in excitement on the edge of his seat. It was only pre-season, but it was Bitty’s first NHL game, and it was in Boston. The entirety of the SMH team, both current and former, made it to the game, and Jack made sure that they all had great seats near the ice. Not that Bitty knew that _everyone_ managed to come tonight.

 

“Let’s get them, boys,” Coach Harvey said at the end of his speech.

“Let’s do this!”

 

In between the commotion, everyone getting up and the manly hugs, Jack managed to see Coach Elliott Martin slipping next to Bitty to tell him a few words. Bitty’s face got more serious, and he nodded to the Coach, before getting up. Jack gestured him to wait up a bit, and both of them were the last ones of the group to go out to the hallway.

 

“What did Coach Martin tell you?” Jack asked.

“Told me to stay calm and be careful. Not to get angry or upset at the first insults.”

“Will it be fine out there?”

“Yeah. Coach told me I could do it, then I can do it.”

 

Jack trusted Coach Martin and his advice. If anyone had any idea of what could be waiting for Bitty out there, it was Elliott Martin. He himself came out as a trans man during his last months of his last season with Boston’s women hockey team, a few months after he married Georgia -who was a D-(wo)man with him.

The story didn’t quite make the news, though. Women’s hockey was criminally ignored.

 

“Listen to Coach Martin. He knows what he’s talking about.”

“Ha -actually, I meant Coach Coach. My Coach. Coach Bittle. He sent me a good luck text. I don’t know what to make of it. So I decided to be happy about it.”

 

Jack eyes widened. It was the first time since his birthday that Bitty mentioned having news from his family- but before he could say anything, they had reached the end of the hallway, and they were about to be sent to the ice for warmups.

 

Jack had been expecting, well, his parents, and Bitty’s agent, and Samwell Men’s Hockey team to be here. He invited them. He hadn’t expected that like, half of Samwell would come, and for the bleachers to be covered in rainbow flags, and that all their friends would wear muticolored wigs and even a custom Falconers Pride banner.

He did expect Shitty to be shirtless with a rainbow bodypaint on his torso and a dyed moustache and a flow full of glitter, though.

 

“Oh goodness,” Bitty said, his hand on his mouth when he saw everyone, and everyone yelling for him. “Even Shruti and Chad are here-“

“They all your friends, 8-bits?” Tater asked.

“Yes. No. They’re people from college. Other sports teams, mostly. I guess they were a bit excited.”

“You’re the first out player, and it’s your very first game, and it’s next to where they are. Of course they’re excited, kiddo,” Marty laughed, slapping his back. “Show them what you’ve got.”

 

It was a great game, with a great ambiance. A perfect way to begin. Jack decided to enjoy it as much as he could, because, well, not all games would be played with a public of Samwell students and LGBT+ folks happy to have someone to cheer on. The novelty of Bitty will soon wear off, and the nasty things won’t be far away.

 

 

**Almost the end of the Pokemon VGC season n beginning of the NHL one but who cares**

_Archie (Oilers)_  
> Mood: this guy  
> [Gif of a very shiny Shitty, yelling like a damned soul during the game after a goal from Jack. He’s waving the infamous ‘Yo marry me Jack Zimmermann’ sign, and by waving, you must read ‘slamming it in excitement on Holster’s head next to him’]  
> idk who this is but he’s living his best life

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> Lol Jack you’ve got a ticket with this dude ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> This dude is my best friend and no, no tickets is being had here. ever

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> Bro I wish my best friend would come to a game full of glitter and rainbows

_N?ls (Pens)  
_> Bro your best friend don’t even know you’re not straight

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> Triviality

_Kent (Aces)_  
> that wasq a good game a+  
> bits u should wokr on ths slapsht thooo  
> twas weak  
> uve been single for liek 2 decads and then was in a ldr I know ur wrist game can be bettr thn that

 

* * *

  

Off-season and pre-season practice? That was nothing. _Nothing_ next to in-season practice and games.

Listen, Bitty had been a Junior champion of figure skating who had ice time before the sun was up, he had played Div I hockey for four years on top of getting a degree and with checking clinics at four am three times a week, so he _thought_ he had built some stamina and strength, right?

Well, as Jack put it so elegantly the night before: _Petite bite._

He wasn’t ready for this tempo.

At least, he didn’t seem to be the only one. Franck (now rechristened Vazy Francky, or just Vazy. Bitty didn’t dare to ask why) also tended to be totally beat after practice, and Jimin, even with one more year of NHL under his belt, wasn’t putting on airs and graces either. Actually, the three of them bonded over that. Jimin had gotten a flat right across the arena and they all tended to flock there during lunch break to _sleep_.

Bitty had to admit, he liked Jimin far better now that he wasn’t living with Jack anymore.

But of course, it cannot continue like this.

It wasn’t long before Jack, along with Thirdy, came to him at the end of ice practice, while everyone was scattering around, and well. Bitty suddenly had flashbacks from his college days.

Oh, funny, just like when he had had flashbacks of his middle school days, after he was nastily checked the day before during the game, causing him to freeze for a few seconds. At least he hadn’t fainted, but he knew Jack had been waiting for the right moment to mention it.

 

“Bitty… Can we talk?” Thirdy asked.

“Yes. Sure. I guess.”

“So, eh. The coaches would like to up you to second line on a regular basis. First line when needed.”

 

That was. Not what Bitty expected Thirdy to say.

 

“ _Regular second line? **First line?**_ But I-”

“-You lack some strength and stamina still,” Jack cut him. “But that can easily be built with some extra practice. So I proposed the coaches some-“

“Four AM checking clinics.”

“-four AM checking clinics. Or, well, ‘training clinics’, I guess. We really need your speed out there.”

 

Bitty whined.

 

“Even more training? You really think that’s what I need?”

“Well…”

“Bitty,” someone shushed to his ear, and Bitty yelped in surprise. “What would Brian Boitano do?”

 

Bitty turned around to see Snowy right behind him, with a shit-eating grin.

 

“… He would do it.”

“Damn straight he would.”

“I’m incredibly upset that you already know how to manipulate me into doing things.”

“So that’s settled?” Thirdy asked. “You and Jack will strengthen you up?”

“I…” Bitty sighed. “Yes. Yes we will. If y’all really think that will work.”

 

Thirdy clapped his shoulder before skating off the ice with Snowy, leaving Bitty and Jack alone out there.

 

“You didn’t freeze because of pain when you got checked by that asshole yesterday, did you?” Jack stated.

“As you guessed, no.”

“Well. Training clinics will look a lot like checking clinics.”

“Uwwgh.”

“I don’t think Brian Boitano would complain.”

 


	13. News material

 

**Eric Bittle; the start of the Hockey Renaissance or proof of nepotism?**

 

When you see Eric Bittle, you do not think “hockey player”. This 22-year-old boy is the antithesis of the traditional player. Five foot six, thin and svelte, his skating style is all in quickness  and sliding where no other player can to make dirty shots and assists. A kind of niche that Kent Parson began to carve a few years ago, but even smaller, thinner, and quicker.

If you think that he looks more like a speed or a figure skater, you couldn’t be more right. Indeed, Bittle used to figure skate on a competitive level until he was sixteen; because yes, the rookie everyone is talking about hadn’t touched a hockey stick before high school!

Bittle signed with the Providence Falconers last May, after his NCAA team’s (Samwell Men’s Hockey) win at the Frozen Four, and played his first few games in the NHL on the third line, before, a few games in, being upped to the second line. The second line, and even, during yesterday’s game, first line. By the end of the game indeed, the Blackhawks were in the middle of a powerplay and were leading with one goal; Bittle got sent on the ice and cannonballed his way to the net, and with a no-look assist from Zimmermann, tied the game before any of the Blackhawks could react.

Bittle may not have yet, if ever, the stamina to play first line, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see him more and more on the ice during critical times, especially paired up with Zimmermann.

Because this no-look assist was not a lucky shot. Bittle and Zimmermann have been playing together two years at Samwell, on the first line, where they became close friends. Considering the sparks Bittle and Zimmermann seem to promise us on the ice thanks to their obvious chemistry, it makes us wonder what Bittle will be able to do once he’s as familiar with the rest of his new team.

What is still a wonder also, is how Bittle made it to the NHL in the first place. Turns out he seems to know quite a number of people within the NHL already- Bittle had been spotted in Montreal at the Zimmerman’s this summer, and even hanging out with Bad Bob Zimmermann in New York, near his agent’s [Theophilia Roberts, _ed_.] office!

His friendship with Jack Zimmermann and the network coming out from it would explain how this unassuming baking Vlogger and figure skater squirmed his way into the NHL, when he’s clearly not cut for it…

Anyway, he promises us a flamboyant season!

 

**René Beger  
**“Bittle is the quickest skater out there, and the perfect player to send out during critical times and end-of-game sweeps, with an amazing osmose with the star centre he had already played with for years, I can’t wait to see what he’ll be like once he’ll be as familiar with his other teammates” then “he likes baking and used to figure skate and is small… Obviously he’s only there because Zimmermann bought his way in the team (Thinking Face )(Thinking Face )(Thinking Face )…” Just admit you say that bc he’s gay

**Tony Marsh  
**they really let anyone playing to get sjw points

**Theo Ritzler**  
make up your mind. is bittle great or a sell-out. I mean considering his goals-assists/ice time ratio I’d say he’s good, but WELP if he loves baking….  
> **Shaniqua Reeves**  
> It’s Adam and Eve, not Mario Lemieux and Gordon Ramsay  
>> **Theo Ritzler**  
>> Ramieux OTP, proud parents of Eric Bittle

**Fiona Terrence**  
Ok so are you sucking the guy’s dick or dissing him im not sure? Like either you make a hockey analysis or you make a rag-worthy gossip column but don’t do both at the same time  
> **Shaniqua Reeves**  
> the author of the first part of the article has clearly been kidnapped during the redaction and replaced by someone else to finish it

 

* * *

 

They were in the nook after practice, playing a cards game during lunch break one perfectly normal Thursday when The Question was asked.

 

“Okay, so, 8-bits-“

“Tater, just call me Bitty. Everyone calls me Bitty,” he said, playing his card.

“Why should I do like everyone?”

 

Fair enough. Bitty nodded in agreement, and Tater took it as a sign to carry on.

 

“When we gonna see your boyfriend?”

 

Bitty opened his mouth and closed it right away. Next to him, Jack hid his face in his hand, his eyes on his cards as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. The others were all focused on Bitty, who really needed to find something to tell.

 

“Uh. Well. _Uh._ ”

“You _have_ boyfriend, right?”

“ _Yes_ , it’s just that. Well. He’s not out. So. You know.”

“I want to meet him! Is he treating you good enough? Why he don’t want be in public with you?”

“I-“ Bitty began to panic, and to tap his foot on the floor, looking for an exit. “Jack, help me.”

 

Jack, surprised to be directly referred to by his boyfriend in a conversation where they had to keep their relationship status a secret, turned towards Bitty.

 

“I literally cannot think of a way to help you here, bud.”

“Yes, Jack, help _us_ instead,” Thirdy said. “You know the guy, don’t you?”

“ _Eh.”_

“ _He does_ ,” Marty whispered.

“Jack, why won’t Bitty let us meet his boyfriend? Is he ugly? It’s no problem, we all tolerate ugly people here. Like Tater.” Snowy teased.

“Hey!”

“I think he’s like, mega-old,” Vazy chimed in.

“Or maybe it’s not all that great? Like, the guy must be a bit of an ass,” Marty tried. “Who wouldn’t want to be on Bitty’s arm during charity galas?”

“Yeah, Georgia told me that she and PR were trying to convince Bitty to bring his beau for next family skate, but he couldn’t be swayed,” Thirdy explained. “Bitty, are you ashamed of him?”

“Maybe he does not exist. 8-bits just don’t want us to help find him a date,” Tater said.

“Everyone shut up!”

 

Bitty had stood up, and slammed his hands on the table, cards forgotten and looking both angry and upset.

 

“Yes I have a boyfriend, yes he is great, and no you can’t meet him, because he’s not out! _Obviously_ I want to have him with me at family skate and during public events and to be able to kiss him after games and to talk about him on social media and during interviews! But I can’t! Because he works in a very homophobic field and he can’t be out! So, it makes me sad, it breaks me that the world is like this, but we both realised it’s _safest_ for us if we stay secret for now! Please just accept that!”

 

And on that, Bitty stormed out of the nook. Jack silently turned his gaze back to his cards.

 

* * *

 

**Still not over the fact Secret Power Couple rookie Gayric Bittle & Jack Bimmermann were on the cover of the NHL 18 game**

_Bitty (Falcs)_

>> I'm a bit sad I’m twenty games into the NHL and I have yet to get into a fight........ Tater and Jack come to my rescue before anything escalates....... I mean technically I _don't want_ to get into a fight because I'm sixty pounds soaking wet and the guys wanting to fight me tend to be homophobic jerks but I've gotten better with contact so I wanna _know_ if i can get into a fight you see????

_Charlie (NYR)_

> No

_Jack (Falcs)_

> No

_Kent (Aces)_

> Yes

_Gothy (Schooners)_

> No

 

* * *

 

“Hi Shitty.”

“Hi Jack! What’s down?”

 

Jack just sighed. Ok, so apparently Shitty now only needed him to say two words over the phone to notice that things weren’t doing well. Perfect. That’s all he needed; a mentalist friend.

 

“Uh. Well. I don’t know. I uh. There’s a NHL inside investigation going on.”

“What.”

 

Jack took a few deep breaths, and Shitty patiently waited for him to calm down a bit. Jack could still hear him tapping something with his fingers, probably his desk because it was late so he must be doing homework, because that’s what Shitty does when he’s stressed.

 

“I don’t know. I’m not sure. I think it’s to prove that Bitty got his place in the team fair and square, and neither me nor my parents bought his way in. Tater told me he got interviewed this afternoon. Philly asked me to call her later.”

“Okay so. Everything will be fine. Your parents _sponsored him_ , they didn’t bribe anyone. Are they even public about the fact they did? Let them do this investigation that probably will never be made public, and they’ll find nothing reprehensible about how he got there, and it’ll be forgotten soon. How is Bitty?”

“On the phone with Philly. She’s livid.”

“Good. Let her get angry, you both just play. It’ll go fine.”

“Yeah.” Jack had calmed down a bit. He wasn’t feeling like he was on the verge of shaking anymore. “Thank you, Shitty.”

“You’re welcome, my bro. Hey, I’m ahead on the essay I’m writing, and Lardo doesn’t work this week-end; what about I try to finish it tonight so we come down Providence Friday night to see your games? I really wanna see you destroy the Pens Sunday…”

 

* * *

 

**Mario is a racoon furry: change my mind**

_N?ls (Pens)_  
> We’re on our way to Edmonton @Anders @Ark  
> Anders, Archie. I don’t care what you planned tonight, I don’t care we arrive late as we have a game tomorrow. We’re going out /w Fidji. And we’re drinking.

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_>> what’s wrong?

_N?ls (Pens)  
_> MY GIRLFRIEND DUMPD ME

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_>> Oh (Disappointed But Relieved Face )(Disappointed But Relieved Face )

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> … Is that a joke

_N?ls (Pens)  
_> IS THAT FUNNY

_Ark (Oilers)_  
> No uh it’s just uh. That.  
> Uh. Anders…

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> Sim and I broke up this morning.

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_>> Oh my god

_Anders (Oilers)_  
> Was too hard to stay hidden and secret so. We decided to end things.  
> And basically only Archie in the team knew about Simon and I so well. Practice was hard.  
> Plus he himself just learnt his Timmies waiter is straight, SO. Hard for him to cheer me up

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> Well my thing is nothing really…….

_N?ls (Pens)_  
> Tonight we’re at 10 at the hotel. At 10:10 I want you and Archie in front of it and you bring FIdji and I to the nearest gay bar or club or whatever I don’t even care  
> We’re going to get so drunk, you have no idea.  
> Like if we scratch our knees, I want pure ethanol to drip out of the injury  
> I want that tomorrow morning Coach take one look at us and he says “J’ai honte de vous sales petits cons.” because no english word can convey his feelings.  
> I want to drink so much that when I’ll see a beer bottle in the next six months, I’ll look down and say sorry

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> Okay honestly big mood

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_>> please don’t get yourself killed

 

“Someone needs to tell Jimmy Fitz he plays better when he’s hungover,” Jack mumbled the following day, when the Falconers were catching the Oilers-Pens game during lunch break.

“Number 12? Robson?” Thirdy asked. “He’s really good today indeed.”

“But boy, does he look like a corpse,” Marty said, impressed.

“There’s boys from both teams who are looking like they’re about to die. (And indeed, the TV cut to the Oilers’ bench, where Anders was sitting, looking _grey_ in the face.) I swear to God, if any of you does something like that? You are dead,” Coach Martin threatened between two bites of salad, pointing Tater in particular with his fork.

“What the hell were they thinking?” Snowy wondered.

 


	14. Head sky

 

**Nintendo switch, top or bottom?**

_Pichaku (NYR)  
_> Ok so everyone here seems nice! I’m glad to be in!

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_> We’re glad to have you too, Pierre

_Pichaku (NYR)  
_> Bittle I Really liked your interview you gave to Outsports last week.

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_> Oh, you (Information Desk Person )

_Pichaku (NYR)  
_> I do have a question tho. For gothy

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> do u want dman advice bc its great u recognise im the superior dman here rookie @Fidji @Nuls

_Pichaku (NYR)  
_> No it’s just. Why ‘Gothy’? We played SEA the other day your team called you ‘Milly’ and well. Gothy isn’t close in anyway to Patrick desmeules. And You don’t look like a goth in anyway

_Fidji (Pens)_  
> [Picture of Gothy last season, with short light brown hair and dressed like a stereotypical jock on a run.]  
> There’s nothing goth about jogging (New Moon Symbol ≊ New Moon)

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> I can reply to this question

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> NO YOU CANT (Face With Open Mouth And Cold Sweat )(Face With Open Mouth And Cold Sweat )(Fearful Face )

_Jack (Falcs)_  
>> it’s a nickname from the Q because well, in juniors… Gothy looked like that  
>> [Picture of a picture. There’s five guys huddled together and smiling for the camera; two no one recognises, young Kent with a too-large shirt and old shorts, young Jack and his boy band hair and some leftover chub, and, laying on the floor in front of them, a goth teen throwing a peace sign. With long, jet black hair, full-face make-up, mittens, Dr Martens and a lot of jewellery.]

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> YOU KEPT THAT

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_> It’s framed in the living room (Tired Face )

_Gothy (Schooners)_  
> God I looked so much like a hot topic goth  
> now that im rich I could be such a classy one???  
> anyway my parents and my agent made me understand I should fit the mold n shit so I cut my hair right before the draft. I went to the last Q party with short hair and that was so sad

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> Well I remember it being sad for another reason…

_Gothy (Schooners)_  
> Oh yeah uh.  
> Anyway im growing my hair back again to at least have a metal vibe you know? Im tired of looking like a jock  
> idk if ill dye it black again

_Kent (Aces)_  
> LOOOOOL OLD SCHOOL GOTHY (Face With Stuck-Out Tongue And Tightly-Closed Eyes )(Face With Tears Of Joy )(Face With Tears Of Joy )(Face With Tears Of Joy )  
> ive got so many old pictures @home I need to send em all  
> anyway who wcare, serious talk  
> bear /w me for that I am drunk

_Jack (Falcs)_  
>> It really breaks my heart that you spell better when you’re drunk  
>> You’re going to scare the new kid

_Pichaku (NYR)  
_> Nah i am strong (Flexed Biceps )

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> You really r not kido

_Kent (Aces)_  
> Long Rant, Im with my friends we r debating, Re: Is It Safe For Us To Come Out Now  
> TLDR; depends

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> ok cool

_Kent (Aces)_  
> basicaly  
> Bitty is the best gay tey could have as a First Gay in the NHL  
> already out whn he signd!!! so theres no impression of having being lied to. Small and discreet! Not a loud gay with funky scary colors but still good lokking enough to be interesting. Unique in a gentelman  way not a queer way. Hobbies: video-making, being endaring, baking. there won’t be any scandals of him snorting coek in the ass crack of some kid on a backrom.  
> Theres a tragic backstory in there, easy to gusss. I mean that’s what I guessed anyway. when you just got voted cap in college,, one Vlog you’re telling you’re spending the summer @your parents. the interview of u bein the first out NCAA cap cames out. You spend the rest of the summer in montreal and you nevr mention your parents again in video. So,  sad backstory, BUT you don’t mention it. So people can easily pity you but they don’t have to get invested you feel  
> Also you have a boyfriend. So goood also less scandals to deal with. BUT your boyfriend isn’t out. So ppl don’t have to see him you see???? They can just. Ignore that you have sex with a man. You can just be the cute quick forward with nice bowties n a bakin problem who’s an angel who brings his college friens as platonic dates for events  
> Like your gay. But not too gay

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> like your gay too (Face Throwing A Kiss )

_Kent (Aces)  
_> still load of bullshit. Never seen someoen being the targt of that many cheks good thing youre skatin like a drunk cheeta. Stupid articles. All the goddam things that r said backstage?? I cant be the only one Who Heard Stuff from their staff n team

_Jack (Falcs)_ >> What stuff ???

_Kent (Aces)_  
> uh  
> stuff  
> my momma raisd me well I aint spreading this shit

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> is this a direct @the Pens AGM and Coach G

_N?ls (Pens)  
_> FUUUCK COACH G

_Kent (Aces)_  
> anyway regarding youre own CO depends; if you a soft gay with a good support tem and u feel ready do it  
> if you a hard gay in a bad enviroment I can only advice u to wait bc bitty only had to deal /w the tip of the icebarg

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> that was beautiful but too deep wan we get back to roasting teeaneg me

  

* * *

 

The Falconers played in Vegas for the first time of the season and it was exciting.

Some kind of rivalry had sprouted between the two teams, both being expansion teams and, well, because of Kent and Jack and all the media circus around them.

So Bitty was a bit hyped. Especially because it was an afternoon game, and he had been promised to be brought to Kent’s best friend’s lesbian bar, and then to the gay club Kent secretly co-owned, and he only had straight friends so his knowledge of queer spaces is limited.

But first, the game.

 

They tried their best. But they were flying right from a game against the Kings that was hard and that the Falcs won by the skin of their teeth, so they were a bit exhausted now. Sadly, a few minutes away from the end of the game, the Aces scored another goal and now Providence was down 3-2.

So Bitty was on the ice, waiting for the puck to drop, and he was as focused as his teammates. He won’t let Vegas win this one. They fought too hard.

Right in front of him, also waiting for the puck drop, there was Kent, who was grinning like an idiot.

 

“Zimms and Mashkov aren’t paying any attention to you, bitch.”

“What?”

 

The puck dropped, and so did the gloves, and Kent decked Bitty right in the face.

 

 

“That was so GREAT!”

“8-bits, we lost.”

“I fought! I made him cry, I saw tears! It was great!”

 

To be quite honest, it had been more of a catfight than anything. Neither Kent nor Bitty knew how to throw a punch (the very few times Kent, who must be four feet two with his arms raised, got stuck in a fight it was more suffering than fighting) so the whole ordeal was quickly finished.

None of the other players nor the referees had known what to do, a bit surprised by this fight. They finished the match in their respective penalty boxes, giving each other the finger through the window, and they had hugged once off-ice.

But Bitty had had his first NHL fight, and he didn’t even faint.

 

 

**RINK FIGHTER 2 – KENT MASTERS VS M. BITTY**

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> Ok care to explain

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> It was. Entertaining.

_Kent (Aces)  
_> I FOUGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT WAS GREAT

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_>> We fought!!!!!!!! I so wanted to fighththt

_Kent (Aces)_  
> Me too!!!!! but everyne is liek way 2 big theyd kill me????!  
> so when bit said he wantd to fight I fought him

 

 

When Tim picked Jack and Bitty up two streets away from the hotel later, he was just so tired.

“I don’t even want to know,” he told Bitty when he had hopped in the car. “Somehow Kent is now the happiest man on earth.”

“Good for him.” Jack said.

 

Bitty just frowned at that, but he waited for Jack to join him on the back seat and for the car to start to say something.

 

“Now that the others aren’t here, care to tell me why you’re such a sour ass?”

“Well, _obviously_ because you fought.”

 

Cool. Great to see that you’re as cooperative as ever. Jack was turned toward the window, making sure to not have any eye contact with Bitty, and he had his arms crossed.

 

“Okay. That I gathered,” Bitty said. “Now I’d like to know _why,_ exactly, because, if I remember well, _you also fight_. It’s in the job description. As a matter of fact, you fought more this year in twenty games that in two whole seasons before that.

“There’s a difference between me punching an asshole who calls you a faggot or tries to pull some illegal check on you and you having a catfight with Kent for _absolutely no reason._ ”

 

Okay. That was the issue, then.

 

“Sweetpea, I don’t need you to _protect_ me.”

“Bitty, I won’t let you get beaten by a freaking goilem because of some misplaced pride. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Jack…” Bitty put his hand on his arm. Jack didn’t try to get him off, but didn’t open up either. “I wouldn’t have gotten hurt. That’s literally why we fought. Because fighting is a part of hockey, a part of the game, that I never got to play because I’m so small and I still have issues with physicality. That Kent either didn’t get to play in years because he’s also so small next to all of you giants. But we both wanted to play the same game as y’all, for once, you know? That doesn’t mean him or I are going to become enforcers and search for shit during games. It’s just that we have like, only each other to turn to to play a whole part of hockey safely, and well, amicably. That uh. I shouldn’t have told you our fights are the same. They’re not at all. And I’m thankful you’ve got my back on the ice.”

“Yes. I understand you. Still don’t like seeing you getting hurt,” Jack conceded.

 

He grabbed Bitty’s hand, but he was still looking at the window. Bitty decided to count that as a win. Tim was also smiling, so yes. Double win.

 

“You really need to learn how to hook a punch, though. You’re just going to get your own hand hurt next time we face the Aces.”

 

* * *

 

**BALLSOUT 4**

_Lebo (NYI)_  
> ok so the islanders PR team validated everything  
> I’m coming out tonight on Twitter

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_>> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Rainbow )(Rainbow )(Ok Hand Sign ≊ Ok Hand)(Ok Hand Sign ≊ Ok Hand)(Two Hearts )(Face Throwing A Kiss )(Smiling Face With Heart-Shaped Eyes )(Shortcake )(Sparkling Heart )(Rainbow )

_Anders (Oilers)_  
>  

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> THAT’S SO GREAT

_Kent (Aces)  
_> congrats!!!!!!!!

_Nurofen (Habs)  
_> im not cryin ur cryin

_Lebo (NYI)  
_> please fave and retweet and make good comments please (Person With Folded Hands ≊ Folded Hands)(Person With Folded Hands ≊ Folded Hands) at least a few of you? Im so STRESSED

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_>> Of course darling!!

 

**Eric R. Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

_Retweeted @lebolemanifik_

I’m crying (Loudly Crying Face )(Loudly Crying Face )(Growing Heart )(Rainbow )

 

> **Tom Lebrown** **✔** **@lebolemanifik**
> 
> [Picture of Lebo and Camilo, next to each other, and showing their hands. They both have a ring.]
> 
> I (finally) said yes, after 5 wonderful years together!

 

* * *

 

 

Jack came back from a captains meeting absolutely _exhausted._ Seriously, he just wanted some sleep. Preferably with Bitty. On the couch.

But when he came back in the apartment, he heard several voices coming from the kitchen.

 

“No, no, darling, you need to heat the water if you want your agar-agar to work…”

“Like that for the fruits, Bits?”

 

Jack silently made his way to the kitchen, to see Snowy, Tater and Jimin baking, under Bitty’s advice. Bitty beamed when he saw him come in, and the others seemed excited too.

 

“Hey Zimmboni!”

“Hey,” Jack smiled.

“We’re live on Youtube!” Tater said, pointing the camera.

“We wanted to help Bitty to bake for Cheat Day tomorrow,” Snowy explained. “The live was Tater’s idea.”

“Wanna join?” Bitty asked. “We have everything you need for your tarte au sucre.”

 

Jack smiled.

 

“Sure. Let me get my apron.”

 

* * *

 

**ZELDA SHOULD TRY TO WEAR BLUE, GREEN DOESN’T SUIT HIM**

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_> Yes you should put a pinch a salt when you’re whipping up egg whites even for sweet stuff

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> I FORGOT IS IT TOO LATE

_Bitty (Falcs)_  
> STOP TEXTING KEEP BEATING  
> YOU’RE GONNA MAKE THIS PERFECT CHOCOLATE MOUSSE IF IT’S THE LAST THING YOU DO KID  
> YOU’LL CHARM THIS DATE

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> CHEF OUI CHEF

_Jack (Falcs)_  
>> It’s really entertaining to watch.  
>> Marty next to Bitty: ‘maybe if whatever you’re doing on your phone makes you so upset, you should stop it’

_Pichaku (NYR)_  
> HI EVERYONE  
> Sorry to cut you in this probably very important discussion but @Zdar, @Gothy, chAAArlo & I r goin to kill you this afternoon  
> [Picture: in the breakfast room of a hotel. Pierre and Charlie are sitting at the table like thugs, turned to the camera. Charlie gives the finger, Pierre finger guns. Charlie has a beanie covering all their hair, Pierre an ugly ratty band shirt, and both have shiny sunglasses. The rest of the Rangers are frowning around them.]

_Gothy (Schooners)_  
> WE’RE GONNA FUCK YOU  
>    
> US

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> ??? No?

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> Be ready assholes I’ve got a hat trick up my sleeve

_Jack (Falcs)  
_>> You’re a goalie Charls

_Kent (Aces)  
_> lol a hat trik

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 

 

A part of the Falconers were watching the Schooners-Rangers game together on Bitty’s tablet, in the bus.

And Charlie had a goddamn hat trick up their sleeve.

Got an outstanding shutout, to begin with. They played like they had never played before. Giving them the main goalie spot this season really wasn’t a mistake.

When the game ended, they took off their goalie mask to slam it on the ice in celebration, just before their teammates dogpiled on them for a celly.

Just before, Jack managed to see a flash of pink and purple.

 

“Oh my God,” Bitty, right next to him, mumbled with a happy tone.

 

Pichaku and another D-man pulled Charlie out of the dogpile, and began to ruffle their hair with a huge beam and under the shouts of the rest of the team. They had dyed it, once again. Bright purple and pink.

Once off-ice, and interviewed by the press, it was easier to see it: they had done an undercut, and dyed a complex galaxy pattern in a pink-dark blue gradient.

 

“That’s a bit flashy,” Thirdy said.

“That’s so pretty! Th-He looks great!” Bitty screeched.

“That’s so very Charlie,” Jack slipped.

“Who’s Charlie?” Tater asked.

“Uh. Someone who would do that, eh.”

 

The questions were generic, the kind you expect after a beautiful shutout, but Charlie was as usual for them, babbling way too much for a pro hockey player.

 

“It was a great game! I was really motivated to win! I am really pumped up since yesterday! I had an appointment in the evening at a hair stylist’s, he’s the one who did this work of art! No one but him, not even my roommate at the hotel, had seen it yet, so it was like a secret on my head, so yeah. Really pumped up. Everyone, if you’re in Seattle, you should visit Johann McQueen’s salon. He’s doing some great work!”

 

Zdar, who could be seen a few metres away, behind Charlie’s shoulder, raised both eyebrows at that.

 

“I did that to stop looking like a straight boy,” Charlie explained to the journalist.

“So, uh… Abraam, does that mean you are not a straight boy?”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

 

Behind their shoulder, Zdar, both shocked and impressed, was gaping. Near them, Pichaku was beaming.

 

And that’s how Charlie became the third out queer NHL player, even if ‘only’ as aro-ace. Non-binarity was a whole other can of worms they weren’t ready to open just yet.

 

* * *

 

Jack didn’t even try to act any surprised when the following morning, back in Providence, Bitty arrived home from the farmer’s market an hour late with bright light blue hair, and only half of their shopping list bought.

 

“Blue fits you well, bud.”

“I was hoping for it to turn a bit more pastel, but hey. I guess it won’t stay that bright long.”

"Can I take some pictures? You’re the same color as the sky right now…”

“Why, Mr Zimmermann, that’s the cutest thing you’ve said this month…”

 


	15. What's on the Internet

 

 

**Eric R. Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

Since I’ve began to play pro hockey, I changed. I’ve bulked up so much muscle.

**Eric R. Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

Cons of bulking up so much muscle: I had to buy new shirts none of the old ones fit anymore

**Eric R. Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

Pros of bulking up so much muscle: I can now carry my boyfriend around just like God intended

**Eric R. Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

Jack: “I doubt that God’s plan is 1. Create the world out of nothing 2. Forbid Jews to eat bacon 3. Give Bittle muscles so he can carry his boyfriend around”

**Eric R. Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

Man of little faith, what is this ‘intelligent design’ I’ve been taught in high school then

 

 

**Listen the lego games are good okay**

_Bitty (Falcs)_  
>> So my favourite article this month is this one:  
>> [link to a blog]  
>> “Hogay fads & Bright hair: why gay players feel the need to parade around looking like living rainbows?”  
>> TL;DR: we [2 of the 3 out QUEER players, a huge study sample indeed] are peacocks trying to attract males instead of playing

_Charlie (NYR)_  
> Not bad. But may I propose my fave:  
> [Link to a blog compiling tweets]  
> “Why Abraam Sheperd, goalie of the NYR, doesn’t get to call himself LGBTQIA+”  
> TLDR the tweets are a bunch of shit calling aro-ace people inhuman prudes and, gasp, straight  
> [Screenshot of twitter: the author of the blog article tweeted it, and Charlie had retweeted it with the comment: “‘Why Abraam Sheperd, goalie of the NYR, doesn’t get to call himself LGBTQIA+’ well what does the A stands for then you absolute pomegranate”]

_Kent (Aces)_  
> nt bad…  
> i rise u a wild [link to a spots website] "Is Kent Parson a homophobe? Why is the Aces superstar only fighting the only queer player of the league" face up in attack position an i end my turn  
> (it frm 2 weeks ago so b4 lebo n chaaarlie COs n after the pvd-vegas game where bits n I had our 2nd, much beautifueler fight)  
> [Picture of the article, printed and framed. It’s hung on a wall, between two gay flags. Two women, in their late twenties, are doing thumbs ups and grinning next to it]  
> it hung in my bff’s ann & lydia’s lesbian bar

_Nurofen (Habs)  
_> Bite wins (Doughnut )(Rainbow )(Trophy )

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> oh :(

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_>> YES

_Kent (Aces)  
_> fuck y

_Nurofen (Habs)  
_> bc his talks about peacocks and in peacocks there’s cock

_Kent (Aces)  
_> thats fair

 

* * *

 

Nap time before a game was sacred. Jack and Bitty could lie down in the living-room, just like they wanted to. And they wanted to, because the couch was small so Bitty had to lie on Jack, and Jack was never as much at peace as when he had Bitty on him like a weight blanket, and Bitty could only stay still when he could have his hands all over Jack, gently, as if he was drawing on him.

They didn’t always sleep, but they were always more relaxed and calm after this down time.

 

“I wish we could do that on roadies,” Jack shushed in Bitty’s ear.

 

And boy, they wished. But on roadies, they weren’t always roomed together, or like last time, with a third teammate (at least, Tater didn’t mind they “sacrificed” themselves to share the double bed), but even the two times they got to share a room, it was hard to have some alone time when they had to be discreet.

 

“I wish we could do that in the nook after practice,” Bitty said.

“Well, we could. Even if I think people might suspect something if we do so.”

 

Bitty chuckled, and cuddled some more on Jack.

 

“It would be fun, though. To just do that without telling. I’d like to see everyone’s faces,” he said.

“Hopefully we’ll get to come out before it’s time to send the wedding RSVP.”

 

Bitty stilled. After a few seconds, he managed to raise on his forearms to look down at Jack, who wasn’t reacting.

 

“We’re getting married, now?”

 

That made Jack realise what he just said. The poor guy grew pink in the face, and turned his eyes towards the ceiling, the couch, the wall, anywhere but _Bitty._ Use your words, Jack. Not everyone is in your head.

 

“I mean eh. Someday? If you say yes? Definitely. I want to.”

 

It seemed to be the correct answer, because Bitty laid back on Jack, and began to _chirp._

 

“I really hope it’s not your actual proposal, because I’d have no choice but say no then.”

“What? Why?” Jack mock-worried. “You don’t want to marry me?”

“I very much want to marry you, but I deserve and demand a ring. Beyoncé said so.”

“Okay. A hundred carats diamond ring and a huge proposal.”

“A normal proposal is okay, but no diamond!”

“A grand proposal that deserves to be on the news, and a ring pop, because you’re so sweet.”

“Okay I’d probably said yes, but a normal, non-diamond ring and a normal proposal are good to me.”

“Coordinated rings for us both and a great proposal?”

“Oh God, you. Yes, let’s go for that.”

 

That made Jack grin, and he kissed Bitty who wasn’t impressed.

 

“I can _feel_ you’re planning something and that’s not what we agreed on.”

“Wow. I wouldn’t dare,” Jack said, but he was smirking even more.

“What am I going to do with you, Mister Zimmermann?”

“Ha.”

 

Bitty laid back on Jack’s chest, his ear over his heart. Jack was making circles on his back. It was nice. It was calm.

 

“Sweetpea…”

“Hmm?”

“So… We’re getting married. One day. Probably, because no proposal has been made.”

“Hopefully, rather sooner than later.”

“Sooner, uh? Soon how?”

 

Jack took a few seconds, and put his hand on Bitty’s cheek to get him to look at his eyes. The last time he had looked that intense off-ice was right before they had kissed for the very first time.

 

“Soon as in, I’d marry you right here, right now, if you didn’t make it clear you wanted a grand proposal and a grand wedding. I love you so much.”

“Jack…”

“But I wouldn’t want to mess with your Pinterest wedding ideas boards.”

 

Bitty started.

 

“How do you know about the- How do you know about _Pinterest?_ Well anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, Jack… I don’t want us to be still hidden when we’re getting married.”

“Yes I… I understand. I don’t want that, either. It worked for Zdar and Johann maybe, but… That’s not what I want for us.”

“I want to be able to celebrate with whomever I want.”

 

Jack’s hand on Bitty’s back stopped. He was focused on the ceiling. Concentrated.

 

“Let’s come out at the end of the season. You very well proved you deserved your spot in the team. If we carry on this way during the playoffs, no one will contest that. So let’s come out by then.”

“I. Yes. Yes good. Let’s do that. The end of the season. We can keep it on until then.”

“Great, great,” Jack smiled. “It’s not like we would have stayed hidden ten years anyway. Hard to raise kids when you’re in a secret relationship.”

“… Kids.”

 

* * *

 

 

**SMH All-Stars**

_Holster_  
> [link to a RPF hockey archive]  
> If im late @work u know y

_Bitty  
_>> (Face Screaming In Fear )(Angry Face )(Angry Face )

_Lardo  
_> whats wrong

_Bitty_  
>> It’s just that.  
>> [Screenshots: the first one reads Jack Zimmermann/Alexei “Tater” Mashkov – 204 works. The second reads Jack Zimmermann/Kent Parson – 145 works. The third reads Jack Zimmermann/Eric “Bitty” Bittle – 12 works.]  
>> Half of mine dates back when I was in college and are based on my Twitter feed

_Holster_  
> Yes but  
> [Screenshots: Eric “Bitty” Bittle/This Boy – 34 works. Eric “Bitty” Bittle/Franck “Vazy” Gueleck – 22 works. Eric “Bitty” Bittle/Robert “Bad Bob” Zimmermann – 15 works]

_Lardo  
_> [Screenshot: Eric “Bitty” Bittle/The Zodiac Killer – 2 works]

_Holster  
_> The zodiac killer series is gold!

_Bitty_  
>> OH MY GOD  
>> [Screenshot of tags of a M-rated Eric “Bitty” Bittle/Everyone fic. A LOT of things seem to happen to Bitty in it. A LOT.]  
>> WHO WRITES THIS

_Holster  
_> oh this one is from an author I know she’s great (Ok Hand Sign ≊ Ok Hand)

_Lardo  
_> I don’t even recognise half of those words. Is mpreg what I think it is

_Bitty  
_>> I wanna set myself on fire

 


	16. The check

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW; on-ice injury mention & description

They were in a hotel room in Nashville when they saw it happen.

Bitty (along with Jimin who was rooming with him this time) was hanging out in the room Jack was sharing with Tater. Marty and Thirdy also dropped by with healthy snacks in their arms, and all of them were talking while half-watching the Aces-Oilers game. It was nice and friendly, to talk around apple chips and baby carrots, so Bitty and Jack were relaxed, and leaning into each other’s space, without anyone noticing. It was good.

Jack was the only one still focused on the screen when Kent got checked.

The hand he had casually put on Bitty’s thigh fisted unconsciously, bringing his boyfriend’s attention to the screen.  

And his “Oh sweet Lord” made everyone else turn toward the TV.

A replay of the action was already playing in slow-mo, so that everyone could see the violence with which Kent got sent flying and his head getting smashed on the ice, his helmet unhooking somewhere along the way.

 

“Holy fuck…” Thirdy said.

 

The replay stopped, showing now the ice live where the referees were trying to calm things down between the Oilers and the Aces, while the medics and some of the Aces were crowding around Kent.

They tried to move him a bit, and there was so much blood.

There was a cut to the Oilers’ bench, where Jack could recognise Archie absolutely livid and still. The accident happened not even two metres in front of him. Anders was on the ice, trying to canalise his teammates before it escalated into a fistfight.

Kent wasn’t moving when the medics escorted him off of the ice.

Everyone in the room was beginning to talk again, everyone commenting on what just happened and _oh my God, I’m so thankful it wasn’t me-_

Bitty’s hand was closed so hard on Jack’s that he only noticed it when the blond pried his hand away.

 

“I am going to… Give a phone call.”

 

He was white in the face and shaking a little. Jack was probably looking just as bad.

 

“I’m coming with you.”

 

Marty frowned when the two of them slipped away, Jack’s arm around Bitty’s shoulder and Bitty’s arm around Jack’s waist, but they didn’t really care.

They went to Bitty and Jimin’s room, right next door.

Jack wasn’t sure of who was leading who to the nearest bed, where he laid down and Bitty draped over him, crushing one of his hands with his own. The weight and the little pain were comforting. It helped him breath.

He didn’t realise right away that his boyfriend was fiddling with his cell phone. He only noticed when he began to talk.

 

“Hey, Tim… I hope you’re okay. Please call when you get this message, I’ll answer whatever the hour.”

“He must be at work.”

“I hope he is. So he wouldn’t have seen it.”

 

Jack hummed.

 

“The Aces just tweeted he was sent to the hospital, but he was stable? What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, bud,” Jack said, sounding more tired than he intended to.

 

Bitty put his phone away to cross his arms under his chin, on his boyfriend’s chest, and look at him in the eye.

 

“How are you feeling, honey?”

“I don’t know, bud,” but this time he didn’t try to hide his exhaustion.

 

**FENRIS CAN RAW MY (girl Hawke’s ofc no homo) ASS**

_Gothy (Schooners)_  
> Okay so I got info from my ps who heard from Zimms’ ps who had some from Kent’s ps  
> Kent has a concussion and head stitches & blood loss and lost a tooth & was comatose until they finished stitching him up but now he’s more or less conscious  
> He’s staying at the hospital tonight and tomorrow at least.

_Lebo (NYI)  
_> Wait what happened

_Fidji (Pens)_  
> You haven’t seen? One of the bloodiest checks of the season during his game VS the Oilers  
> It’s all over internet

_Lebo (NYI)_  
> No I’m in the locker room my own match just finished  
> Holy shit someone just shoved the video to my nose

_Gothy (Schooners)_  
> now y was he checked s o violently  
> @Ark @Anders who was the ass who did that n y did he do that

_Fidji (Pens)_  
> you think it was on purpose?  
> Kent isn’t out, do you think this guy could have guessed stg

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> (Face With Rolling Eyes ) well I didnt say anythin………

_Anders (Oilers)_  
> Well, keep it this way and don’t begin a witch hunt. Teron is a good guy and honestly didn’t expect the check to turn this way. And he would never have done something vile like you both are starting to imply. He’s one of the only guys in the team I plan to come out to. I know you’re upset that your friend ended in the hospital, but believe me, we all are. Teron is devastated by what happened, and I’m pretty sure Archie won’t sleep for a while.  
> I’m glad he gained consciousness again and I hope he’ll get better soon. Does anyone have Timothy’s phone number, to have updates and wish him well?  
> Also Teron would like to talk to kent as soon as he gets better, do you think I can tell him I have his number?  

 

 

Tim phoned after three AM. Bitty was sleeping, and almost threw the buzzing phone away, when he saw who was calling.

Silently, he took his room card and tip-toed out of the room not to wake Jimin up.

 

“Hi?” he whispered in the hallway.

“Hi, Bitty-“ Tim’s voice was weak and wavy. “Sorry if I woke you up, I should have waited to call you-“

“Don’t worry – I’m just looking for somewhere to talk.”

 

He decided to just plop down on the sofa of the nook at the end of the floor. From here, he had a great view of the city. Also, he was pretty sure no one would come by this hour.

 

“I, uh-. I was working. And in the locker room after my shift at the casino, I saw I had fifty missed calls from my parents, Kent’s parents, _Jack’s parents,_ our friends, you, and all that. I freaked out right there.”

“Oh my- I’m so sorry. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, I- I phoned Kent’s parents’ first. Figured out something had happened to him. They told me everything they knew, but that wasn’t much. Visibly the Aces’ staff convinced them it was no need for them to drop work and fly here, so Ken should be okay and out of the hospital soon.”

“Okay. That’s great. You didn’t go see him?”

“It’s. I, mmh. We decided before that if he was injured and that if it wasn’t life-threatening, then I shouldn’t go to the hospital? I mean, uh. Having to deal with being outed on top of injuries? Not great.”

“Having to deal with third-hand information on your boyfriend’s state without being able to see him or even call him? Not great.”

 

Bitty had regretted his words the second they came out of his mouth. That was the _worse_ thing you could say, idiot.

Tim didn’t reply right away, of course. His breath had gone heavier while Bitty was kicking himself.

 

“I know. I mean, I guessed it wouldn’t be easy, but, uhm. I didn’t expect it to be this terrible, you know?”

“Well. Luckily, I don’t.”

“Haha, yes,” Tim sourly laughed. “I, uh. Past the first shock and phone calls, I was okay? I had his parents on the phone, then my best friend Filip, then his best friend Ann, so I was calmer. I went to his apartment to go pick up his cat. Easier to take care of her at my place, right? And I… I ran into Jeff Troy there?”

“Oh, Lord.”

“So I said I was _calmer_ , not that I was _calm_. I think it was pretty obvious I had been freaking out. So I see Jeff, who had fed Kit and was throwing together an overnight bag for Ken, and he was just, like ‘Who the fuck are you and what are you doing there?’. So I bullshited some shit about being the pet-sitter and seeing what had happened so I came to pick up the cat, and I asked more info about Kent, because Jeff was just out of the hospital and he was going back so he’d know, you see? He just frowned at me like I was a fucking stalker who wormed his way here and as if he didn’t believe a word I just said. He fucking phoned Austin to ask him to ask Kent if ‘he should let the cat guy take Kit or if he should take care of her himself’. Apparently Kent caught that it should be me, because I was allowed to leave with the cat. I asked if I could say a few words to him on the phone but Jeff was just like ‘no, he should be sleeping already. You too, go, I’m closing behind you don’t worry,’ and he basically threw me out of the apartment and I’ve never felt so much like a small shit on the pavement. Like, seriously. I got kicked out of a place I spend as much time in as in my own apartment? The goddamn ugly Minnie Mouse mug you were drinking your tea from is mine? I can’t even talk to my _boyfriend_ over the phone? I have to tell I’m the fucking _pet-sitter_ and not someone who cares about Ken and whom Ken cares about? I can’t even know how he is when he’s at the hospital? It’s _awful_. I don’t want to be in the closet anymore.”

 

Tim’s voice had grown wavy and high, and by the end of his tirade, he was full-on sobbing.

Bitty himself was close. He swallowed a bit too hard, to try to keep his tears away.

 

“I just want to see him and be with him and tell him he’ll get better soon and that I’ll still love him even if he’s all beaten up.”

“Tim…”

 

He calmed down a little, after that. He tried to say sorry, but Bitty had none of that.

 

“You have every right to be upset, you know that?”

“Yeah, it’s just… It’s hard. That his coworkers don’t know. That half of his life, all of his friends, his club, me, have to stay hidden because it’s safer for everyone.”

“Have you… Have you both talked about him coming out? Would it be easier if you did?”

“Yes. No. He can’t, with the Aces. The staff is a bunch of assholes.”

“Yeah, he told us as such…”

“Maybe in another team, though. His contract is finished next season. He’s probably going to try to get traded somewhere far away before that.”

“He’ll be able to. He’s Kent Parson.”

“That’s the whole issue. That’s why he can’t come out. He’s Kent Parson.”

“If he wasn’t Kent Parson, a whole lot of other issues would stop him from coming out. Society is a bitch.”

“Gosh when he does decide to come out I hope all those fucking stanning fangirls sending death threats to any girl standing in a five-foot radius of him will be in mourning,” Tim said, and at least, he was almost laughing.

“The downside of dating a guy modelling for sponsorship deals…”

“He just lost two incisors, though. Won’t stay the pretty boy of the NHL for long.”

“Oh, boy. He’s going to ask for solid gold fake teeth, won’t he?”

“I _need_ you all to chirp him relentlessly so he doesn’t do that? I’m not above trying to get you to pity me…”

 


	17. Wobbly door

**FENRIS CAN RAW MY (girl Hawke’s ofc no homo) ASS**

_Pichaku (NYR)  
_> Kent is leaving the hospital today, right?

_Bitty (Falcs)_  
>> Well, IS HE (Thinking Face )(Thinking Face )  
>> (he is)

_Jack (Falcs)  
_> Still no screens for a while, tho. Concussion isn’t doing good.

_Gothy (Schooners)_  
> got his mom on the phone for like 5 min s earlier  
> aparntly he’s comin out to some teammates today?

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Smiling Face With Heart-Shaped Eyes )

_N?ls (Pens)  
_> You wont read it Kent but good luck (Revolving Hearts )(Rainbow )!!!!

_Bitty (Falcs)_  
>> Thanks Nals I’ll pass it to Tim so he’ll pass it to him  
>> The plan is:  
>> he didn’t get to have Tim on the phone because he only had it when his parents called???? to make sure he didn’t look at screens or smtg  
>> So his mom had to plan everything for them lol  
>> basically he’s dismissed frim the hospital this morning and tim joins at his apartment after his shift at the casino at like noon  
>> then kent asks jeff troy who’s his best friend in the team to come by like five in the afternoon to announce him and present him tim  
>> if it goes well he’ll also tell laslo Austin at a later date  
>> no plan of public CO or even staff CO but with these two in the confidence itll be easier for both tim and kent already

_Lebo (NYI)  
_> Go Tim! Go Kent!

_Archie (Oilers)  
_> Good luck, my Lasagna Brothers. Bitty, can you update us?

 

 

**Tim** ** (Playing Card Black Joker ≊ Joker) ** **, Bitty** ** (Shortcake ) **

> Ok so.

>> You did it? I haven’t had any updates, I began to worry a little.

> Stuff happened (Smiling Face With Open Mouth And Cold Sweat ).

>> Im scared.

> Things that went according to plan: 0

>> do I need to fight someone ill fight someone

>> im short, but vicious

>> my anger is less diluted

> No. Maybe one guy

> ok SO. Ken was supposed to be dropped home at eleven, and I was supposed to get off work at noon, go home to pick Kit up, and bring her back and see Ken (finally!!!!) and spend the afternoon together

> I arrive at almost one, let myself in, and I enter the apartment as if I own the place because of the guy living here, I own the ass

> EXCEPT THAT. On his couch. There is Ken who looks like he’s going to kill someone.

> Someone being A. Jeff Troy who is at the other end of the couch eating take out Chinese

> Or B. Laslo Austin who is lounging on the armchair, on his phone

> Or C. Anthony Debis that Ken always complain about because the guy is visibly an idiot and a grownup kid and who is also eating food just there

>> Oh my god

> So I enter the living room with Kit’s cage under the arm im like that (Fearful Face )(Flushed Face )(Grimacing Face )

> The three guys are like that (Confused Face )(Face Without Mouth )(Neutral Face ) ‘Who are you’ ???

> Kent behind them be like

> (So apparently the guys refused to leave Kent alone??? ‘you’re just out of the hospital don’t worry bro we’re here for you’ like sure cute and bro goals but uh. Kent didn’t get to text me because they still don’t let him have his phone)

> ‘hi hey tim those are my teammates haha… Jeff is SO NICE UH. HE DECIDED TO STAY HERE A FEW DAYS. MAKE SURE I DON’T USE THE PHONE. HAVE REST. UH.’

> Holy shit that won’t do.

> ‘Oh you’re the pet sitter’ Jeff says.

> ‘Yes, that,’ I say, and I let kit go because this cat is savage and won’t stop meowing to be out

> SO I’m the cat guy and I let the cat out and they look at me because I have nothing to do here anymore right???? Cant be the cat guy without the cat

> But like. I do,t have any more reason to come back now that ken is home and I don’t have the cat. And he doesn’t have his phone for X days and jeff will be here for god knows how long so it’s basically my one and only chance to see my boyfriend and talk to him???? so I aint leaving bitch

> didn’t get voted most likely to organise a successful sit-down in my HS yearbook for nothing. It’s the first time I get to see my boyfriend since he’s been yeeted in the hospital after getting his skull smashed on frozen water so believe me im not moving. You’re moving

> Ken must think the same? He says ‘hey come sit here with us’ and they’re all (Confused Face )

> esp when instead of going to the nearest armchair I go between jeff and kent (like thigh to thighs with ken) on the couch. Jeff looks at me like ‘who do you think you are’. I look at Jeff like ‘Like a guy who spent 30minutes last week with your good friend kent trying to scrub a semen stain off the very spot your ass is sitting on rn’ but im not sure he understood all the nuances

> And it’s so tense. The guys barely talk. I don’t say a word I try to poker-face them. Ken is exhausted and has blackeyes and two teeth missing and stitches on the face and I can’t even hug him??????

> Finally after like two hours (or five minutes I didn’t count) ken just sigh so hard I felt a part of his soul escaping his body

> And he goddamn says

> ‘I’m gay. Tim’s my boyfriend’ and he gets on my lap and hugs me and begins to silently cry in my neck?

> Like.

> It’s been a year and a half we’re together and he barely ever cries in front of me bc he barely cries to begin with and will come for confort aFTER a sob not before or during it

> SO him crying on me???? In front of his teammates including Debis he doesn’t like much?

> Hospital really fucked him up

> maybe don’t tell him I told you he cried he still try to convince people he got his tear ducts ligatured

> So uh? then. I think his teammates didn’t godammn believe it. They looked like they just expected me to say I actually drugged kent into lovine me or Kent to go ‘PRANKD HAHA DO I REALLY LOOK LIKE SOMONE WHO LIKES IT IN THE ASS’

> aye buddy have you met kent he very much looks like someone who likes it in the ass but that’s not the question

> I think they only began to realise when after a few minutes I managed to calm him down a little and drag him outside on the balcony to have a one-one talk

> it was heartbreaking he told me about how in pain he was rn and what he was thinking on the ice bleeding out and in the ambulance and in the hospital and how he regretted to ask me to not come and at a moment or two he was persuaded he’d never see me ever again???? that he wanted me and our friends by his side in the hospital instead of the aces full staff and team when he only cares about jeff and laslo there and only them cares about kent parson, and not their captain

> when we got back inside it was a bit better but Debis was creeping me out a bit

> jeff sent him away and threatened to castrate him if he opens his mouth

> jeff is good at  kicking people out of kent’s apartment also apparently I now have the ‘privilege’ to call him and laslo swoops and scraps well good but bitch for calling me the cat guy and treating me like shit you’re gonna have to call me Mr Hauchart for at least three month

> then we talked a little and Ken fell asleep on me

> and the door slammed open and someone was yelling “HELLO ITS US” and indeed it was us.

> like, Ann and the other people of the gay club. Evryone wanted to come see kent and I forgot to tell them it was maybe not the moment

> “I brought champagne!” ann says

> “ icannot drink champagne!” kent says

> “we know it’s to celebrate this fact I brought some”

> I think jeff and laslo were a bit overwhelmed. The gang just left a few minutes ago /W laslo. Jeff stayed because apparently he had planned to anyway but  im not sure if actually it’s because he doesn’t trust me or he wanna keep an eye on kent or both

>> wow that was a busy day

> it was

> I’m… I’m happy we got to tell people. Even if I believe kent will need a big one-on-one convo with jeff and laslo about all of this to really smooth things out

> but they seem like good guys

> they really look after him

>> Im glad for you

>> I hope it’ll only go better from now on

 

* * *

 

 

The Falcs had a game at the beginning of the afternoon. It was Friday so Ransom, Holster and Lardo had their week-end free, and Shitty had finished whatever paper he was late for. That’s only natural all of them rang the bell of Jack’s and Bitty’s door Friday afternoon, a keg under the arm and with a few SMH players on their heels.

 

“Coucou ! Tu veux voir ma bite ?” Ransom had yelled, the second Bitty had opened the door.

“Bitty, being a senior is awful, I need to get drunk like, yesterday,” Dex whined.

“Where’s Jack, my beaut, my fave? I need to smack him so hard you’ll get jealous?”

 

Well, of course, none of them had thought about the fact that the living-room could be _occupied._

Jack, George, and half of the players of the Falcs were lounging there, with cups of tea and small cakes.

 

“… Hello.” Holster said, lowering the keg on the floor.

“Sorry,” Chowder tried.

“How my God _Mashkov is here-”_

“Oh, hey!” Tater said. “It’s funny coral friend!”

“Do you mind if we crash your tea party with our few offerings?” Lardo asked, showing the six-pack in her arms. “Also I wanna play pool, Whiskey, Ford, you’re on.”

 

Jack didn’t even try to ask what the hell was happening. He stopped to question his life eons ago.

 

“The tap for the keg is where you last left it, Holster,” he sighed.

“If any of y’all touch the mini-pies in the blue Tupperware, I’m skinning all of you,” Bitty threatened.

 

All in all, it was a good, if definitely unplanned, party. Jack drank a drink or three, and well. Everyone was mingling, and the lights were dim, and the Samwell guys were here and they had no concept of personal space, and Ransom was massaging Holster’s shoulders and Whiskey was on Dex’ lap on the couch and no one bat an eye and Tango was leaning on Chowder while waiting for their turn to play pool, so. If he kept his arm around Bitty’s waist all night, it’s not like anyone would find it weird.

Marty was the only one to raise an eyebrow.

 

“Okay so we’re definitely out of booze-“ Tango complained well into the night.

“Well we didn’t expect to have a whole pro hockey team to be here drinking tea when we arrived. Of course we don’t have enough booze,” Whiskey replied.

“We didn’t expect our tea party to be interrupted by frat boys,” Georgia said. “We would have brought bottles too, if we did.”

“Let’s just go where the alcohol is -Bitty, where’s the nearest club?” Holster asked.

“There’s a straight club that is apparently okay two streets away,” Bitty replied.

“Oh, the Berry?” Snowy said. “Yes. It’s great.”

“Let’s hit the club, boys! Don’t forget your wallet, your phone, and the way from here to there!” Holster said, clapping his hands. “Babies under twenty-one are staying here.”

 

Most people began to get up to collect their stuff, and Bitty took advantage of the noise and the movement to lean a bit more next to Jack and say to him a few words.

 

“You’re not coming?”

“No. Careful when you drink, okay?”

“Don’t worry. I’m going to be so stressed about how I’ll herd them back here that I won’t touch one more drop of alcohol.”

“I’m gonna settle mattresses and the sleeping bags they brought and open the couch so that you can just drop them on the floor when you’re back.”

“You’re the best.”

 

Bitty squeezed Jack’s knee before he got up and lead the whole troop outside the apartment, either to go to the club or back home for a chunk of the Falcs.

It was suddenly way more silent, when only like, seven people were here.

 

“Jack, your old team is a riot,” Georgia laughed.

“It was nothing.”

“Absolutely nothing”, Dex agreed. “By the way, Whis and I have dibs on the guest room.”

“What? No way!” Ford shouted.

“Too late, Foxtrot,” Whiskey grinned, running to the room with his and Dex’ bags, and Ford tried to run after him.

“Admit your defeat and help us set up the sofa, Fox,” Tango said. “We can share. It’s mega comfy.”

 

Jack escorted Jimin and Georgia -the only Falcs left- to his front door while the tadpoles and Dex were setting all the blankets, pillows and bags on the floor.

 

“Sorry for the impromptu party, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, it was fun,” Georgia said.

 

Jimin seemed about to fall asleep here and there in the hallway.

He was just woken enough to open his mouth.

 

“Jack you don’t have a guest room.”

“Wha-?”

“Your friends. They fought for my old room. Bitty’s room.”

 

Jimin, shut the fuck up.

Georgia was frowning.

Jack, something, quick.

 

“Oh well. When people are here, Bitty’s room becomes a guest room. He shares with me. Saves space,” Jack told Jimin, not breaking eye contact so that he wouldn’t notice he was sweating buckets.

“Neat. Now, come Jimin, I’m driving you home. Jack, see you tomorrow for practice -I guess I’ll ask Elliott to move it to the afternoon. I can’t promise you anything, but it’s not like morning practice will do any good to any of you.”

“Really sorry.”

 

Both bid their goodbye, and Jack slipped back in his apartment. Tango and Ford were laying on the couch, Whiskey and Dex sitting next to them. All had already slipped on pajamas.

 

“None of you went to the club?”

“Not twenty-one,” the Tadpoles said.

“I hate clubs,” Dex replied.

“Wait a second-“

 

Jack went to the kitchen, and came back with a blue Tupperware and a bottle of wine.

 

“More booze?”

“I really need one more drink,” Jack explained. “Also it’s from the liquor cabinet. Don’t tell the others.”

“Are those the forbidden mini-pies?” Foxtrot asked, pointing the Tupperware.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

 


	18. Playoffs

**ACE ATTORNEY ABRIDGED; or #storytime of charlie’s 2 months in law school**

_Kent (Aces)_  
> I jst hd my apointmnt /w the doctor  
> scrreeeeens r bak babiiii (Sign Of The Horns )

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> I wish this hit to the head would have rearranged your five neurons so that you can spell (Baby Chick )

_Lebo (NYI)  
_> The Aces are coming down to play us next week, we’re going to see you back on the ice?

_Bitty (Falcs)_  
>> !!! Nice to have you back Kent  
>> have your 5 neurons been rearranged so that you now know manners?

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> Y’est bien assez maniéré comme ça

_Jack (Falcs)  
_> haha t’es con

_Kent (Aces)_  
> yeeeee so about coming. Back. Out.  
> I may or may not have exagrated my physical symptoms a little bit??? So im not going back b4 th end of the regular seson

_Bitty (Falcs)_  
>> ???????  
>> (Face Screaming In Fear )(Face Screaming In Fear )?????????

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> KENT.

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> K E N T.

_Kent (Aces)  
_> sorry daddies (Worried Face )

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> ok so 1st of all I hope it’s a jab on the fact we’re both old and not anything sexual

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> secodn wtf

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> second of all what the fuck

_Kent (Aces)_  
> I  
> I dont wanna play for the aces anymore  
> I dont wanna play for a team I built with my onw hands n yet /w which i dont feel safe enough t o have my bf w/ me at the hosptial  
> a team w/ constant homophobc joks n where ive been praisd aftr my 2nd fight with bitty by some of my teamates for ‘putin the fag bakc to HER place’  
> is2g tht somtg karl told me lookin @me straigh in the eye after my stupid roughhousin-play-fight with my tiny bro  
> I dont wanna go back to the lockerroom and hae to deal with debbs not being able to look @me bc he knows and the only reason he doesn’t sell me out is bc he’s scared, or with him having told some1 an it grow into a rumor half of the team refuses to belive but that no one will address when im around  
> ‘thats not all the guys’ maybe but its enugh  
> its too much  
> I talkd wth my agent, told him evrthg, talkd w/ tim & swoops n scarps, n my therapist. not comin back to the ice with the aces, he’s going tofind a way to gt me traded asap and im fuckn off to one of ur teams probably, if they’ll haveme, then im comin out and ill never se the color of a clost ever agein

_Zdar (Schooners)_  
> Deadlines for trades this season are well passed. You won’t be traded before off-season.  
> So you decided not to play for 6 months?  
> You who won a SC a few years back with a broken foot you told no one about to continue to play?

  _Kent (Aces)  
_> guess i love myself more than i love hockey rn.

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> Good luck, kiddo.

  

* * *

 

 

“ _’Kent Parson: Out of commission until the play-offs.”_

“So, we’re not seeing him back on the ice before next season. The Aces can’t make it to the playoffs without him.”

 

Thirdy and Marty were in the nook, sitting with Jack on the couch and reading the news on their phone after morning practice.

‘ _They won’t have a choice’,_ Jack was thinking. ‘ _They don’t know yet, but he’s not coming back with them. They don’t have his back, he’s not gonna have theirs. If he could stab them, he would.’_

 

“Too bad the Aces focused all their plays and strategy on only one good player, I guess,” Jack just said, sipping his smoothie.

“They’d be lost without him,” Marty said.

“That’s a lot of pressure on one guy,” Thirdy agreed. “You two are friends, aren’t you? You always meet when we’re playing the Aces. Is he doing any good?”

 

‘ _Depends. Physically, he’s getting better. Got new teeth, almost didn’t scar on his face. He could have been cleared for ice time in ten days. Mentally, he’s a mess. Hasn’t been on the ice in weeks. Won’t be able to play for 6 months. Refuses to interact with most of his team while having to act as if nothing was wrong. At least his boyfriend, his friends, and his two alternates have his back.’_

 

“I have seen him being better. Barely sends me a mime a day.”

“It’s a _meme_ and you know it,” Thirdy laughed, and Jack smirked because of course he knew it, but Kent did send him pictures of goddamns _mimes_ every day.

“Tell him the team wishes him to get better soon, and we’re ready to kick his ass when he goes back to the ice,” Marty said. “In Bitty’s case, quite literally. Poor boy won’t have anyone to fight in the next six months.”

 

Jack nodded, and focused back on his smoothie, while Marty and Thirdy began to read again the news, commenting here and there.

Kent probably had more support within a team where he was known as the guy whose hobby was to fight everyone’s favorite winger than he probably would ever have in his very own team, if they knew about his orientation.

And yet, his boyfriend, his friends, and his two alternates had his back.

 

“I’m bi,” Jack suddenly needed to say.

“O-Ok…” Thirdy replied, blinking fast. “I mean that’s great! I’m just. Surprised. That you’re telling us like that.”

“Yes, that’s great, kiddo,” Marty said, and he didn’t look surprised much, just a bit taken aback. “You’ve got twice more chances to be rejected.”

“Hey,” Jack complained, and Marty ruffled his hair.

“Do you want to tell the whole team? Everyone will be great about it, don’t worry,” Thirdy asked. “Everyone is already great about Bitty.”

 

Yes, but. He hadn’t planned to come out to anyone. He didn’t want to right now. He hadn’t talked about it to Bitty, to Shitty, to his parents, to anyone. He was as surprised as them.

 

“I- Uh. No. Not right now.”

“As you wish, Jack.”

 

* * *

 

 

Bitty got another good luck text from both (Both!) his parents when the Falconers made it to the playoffs. He had a text from his mother three weeks before asking him if what he wanted to do with his bike that was in their garage. So many messages; Bitty was really snowed under with love and support here.

The Falconers were on fire. They honestly had a fair shot to go to the Conference Final at least, Coach Martin had said.

 

“Why care about making it to the Conference Finals when we can aim to win the Stanley Cup?” Bitty had asked.

“Good spirit, rookie,” Coach Martin had smiled. “Now prove to us that you’re not all mouth and no trousers by running two more laps.”

“Coach!”

“That’s for your own good. I’ve tasted the whipped cream you brought last cheat day.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Cuphead but like with the Stanley cup**

_Kent (Aces)_  
> [Selfie of Kent, with behind his shoulder Tim, and some of their friends, including his best friend Ann. They’re on the beach, with piña coladas.]  
> good luck 4 the playofs

  _Bitty (Falcs)_  
>> [Selfie of Bitty on the treadmill. He’s sweating buckets and is giving the finger]  
>> choke on your drink

_Kent (Aces)  
_> i dont haav a gag reflex

_Fidji (Pens)  
_> The rangers kicked us out yesterday I hate yooooou where are you

_Kent (Aces)_  
> [Several pictures of the hotel room and the hotel view. The thing has clearly several stars and is located in a tropical area]  
> offerd soem holiday sto friends? We’re like 7  
> in phnom pen  
> pnom phens  
> phom phen?  
> Cambodia  
> it’s a gay only resort

_Bitty (Falcs)_  
>> [Picture of the window of the gym -it’s raining in Providence. Tater is seen in the corner, probably stretching; he’s waving at the camera with a huge grin]  
>> I hope u get sunburnt to oblivion

_Kent (Aces)  
_> no risk ive got a pretty boy more thn happy to put sunscrem on me (Kissing Face With Closed Eyes )(Kissing Face With Closed Eyes )(Kissing Face With Closed Eyes )

_Gothy (Schooners)_  
> we should totally do the cabin again this year. I need gay only holidays  
> @Jack sorry not sorry I invite myself

_Bitty (Falcs)  
_>> I’ll ask him its not like you can defile his pool any more

_Kent (Aces)_  
> anyway maek sur that at last one of you make it to the sc finals  
> ill be back I wanna go watch it

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> !!!!! yes we should try to all go see woever is in the finals!!!! Lets go gays we can do it

 

* * *

  

“I’m just saying, 8-bits,” Tater began, his mouth full of pie, “You’re my favorite. Don’t you want to move in with me next year?”

“You just want unlimited pie, don’t you?”

“Yes, but also if we live together -we can have dance offs! All the time!”

 

Jack slouched on the couch, across from Tater and Bitty, an orange juice glass in hand.

 

“Hey. If you take Bitty, who will _I_ have dance offs with?”

“Zimmboni, you do not dance.”

“I do.”

“He does,” Bitty agreed. “Not even that badly.”

“What? Why I don’t know? Zimmboni, aren’t we friends?”

 

Bitty began to tell Tater about this one Kegster Jack came to last year, and how he had spent the night on the dancefloor after only a cup of tub juice, and well. If Jack was looking at Bitty with a fond smile, reminiscing this party, then sue him. Everyone was focused on the Western conference finals on the screen, Schooners-Stars. Gothy seemed more than set on destroying his old team. Honestly, Jack hoped he’ll win. He really wanted to face the Schooners for the Stanley Cup.

Marty, next to Jack, nudged his feet with his own. Jack turned toward him, an eyebrow raised.

 

“You want Bitty to stay here, right?”

“Mmh. Yes?” Jack replied, not really sure if it was the right answer.

“Jack. I. I’m not sure if-“

“Please don’t say anything. Please. Wait after the Final series.”

“Sure,” Marty said, but he didn’t look sure at all.

 


	19. Finals

 

  **SUPER BLOOD HOCKEY – VIDJA GAME OR REAL LIEF**

_Pichaku (NYR)  
_> Guys where tf r u I’m outside and small alone scared n gay

_Lebo (NYI)  
_> You aren’t with Charlie??

_Pichaku (NYR)  
_> No they told me they were already there

_Kent (Aces)  
_> Well theyre not

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> More seriously we’re already sitting

_Zdar (Schooners)  
_> Wait Charlie isn’t here???? I’m a bit worried

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> OU EST CHARLIE

_Kent (Aces)  
_> OMG u play in 10 min for the goddamn SC worry about that not about chARLIE let US worry about them k put ya phone saway

_Lebo (NYI)  
_> I’m going to look for 'em in the rink /w camilo, Picha can you look outside while you still are there please? Kent goes to the backstage and the others will text us if Charlie arrives

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> sorry I was taking a shit

_Pichaku (NYR)_  
> OMFG  
> Well I arrive to the seats please hit Charlie for me!  
> UH the game begins so soon  
> Go Schoons! Go Falcs!

 

 

They won. It was Game 7, and they won, at home, thanks to one assist of Jack to Bitty fifteen seconds before the end of regulation time and they _won_

It was a mess. Everyone was on the ice now, players and staff and friends and press and Jack was crying because it was such a beautiful day and Bits was on Tater’s shoulders, sobbing and his parents were hugging him and they _won-_

 

“Jack!”

 

Bob and Alicia pulled away to let Shitty and Lardo collide into Jack, and Holster was right behind and tried to lift the three of them off the ice and he almost succeeded, and everything was great

 

“Jack, bro, I literally cannot stop crying-“ Shitty was sobbing

“I won’t have anything to pee for at least three days-“ Lardo said

“I am so proud and happy I could die-” Holster bawled

“I love you, guys.”

 

They hugged some more, and Holster was talking loud, and Jack couldn’t focus. He was drifting towards Bitty, a few metres away, crying all over Chowder and Dex and Ransom

It was Shitty’s tap on his arm that re-centred him.

 

“What?”

 

Shitty came closer, and like a secret, he put in Jack’s hand the box he had been asked to look after the night before when Bitty was showering, until they were in the locker rooms after the game if they won.

The ring box.

Shitty was close, so no one could see what it was, and it was weighing a lot in Jack’s hand. At the same time, in the middle of a rink, when his adrenaline was dropping? It warmed him up so much he finally realised how _cold_ he was.

 

“My heart wants you to do it right here, right now,” Shitty whispered, but somehow Jack could only hear him, “but my brain… My brain wonders why you haven’t done it yet. Go, lover boy.”

 

And suddenly, the rink wasn’t Jack-and-Shitty anymore. It was Jack-and-Bitty.

Jack wasn’t panicking. He had never been so calm as when he skated towards Bitty. Bitty, who from the corner of his eye saw him come over and turned toward him, with his smile too big and his eyes too happy and every single light seemed to be on him and him alone.

Jack fell in love once more.

They crashed into each other, and Jack lifted him off the ice and twirled him while laughing because he could.

 

“We did it, sweetpea”

“We did it, bud”

 

Jack put him on the ground, and pulled away, just enough to look in his eyes. He kept his hands clenched in his, and Bitty couldn’t not have felt the box there, but he only smiled even more.

 

“Bits I love you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, and my best friend, and every day with you is-“

“Jack. Jack are you doing what I think you’re doing.”

 

That stopped him in his tirade. Jack blinked a few times, before he managed to say:

 

“I. Yes? I shouldn’t? Should I wait until we’re alone? Are you going to say no?”

“No, no! You very much should. I mean, do it. Here, now. I just wanted to make sure that’s what you want, because I very much am goin’ to say yes. All the ‘yes’.”

“Yes. I very much want to. I don’t want to wait any time more.”

“Then by all means, resume your proposal.”

 

Jack smiled, and pressed Bitty’s hand firmer into his own, lost in his eyes. And his face dropped.

 

“I forgot.”

“You- what did you forgot, hon?” Bitty worried.

“What I wanted to say.”

 

Bitty blinked, then began to chuckle.

 

“That’s not funny Bits! I know you wanted a grand proposal, so I planned it for months, and now you cut me off and I forgot my speech!”

“I’m sorry-“ Bitty took one hand away from Jack’s to hide his laugh.

“It’s terrible!”

“No it- it sums us up perfectly,” Bitty finally put his hand back with Jack’s, where it belonged. “I love it. But please, ask away.”

“I’m going to improvise, okay?”

“Just goddamn ask me before I do, Jack.”

“Okay, so. Bittle. Bitty. Bits. Bud. Bee. I love you. Meeting you was the first day of the rest of my life, and I didn’t even know it. You inspired me to become someone better. I know I wouldn’t be half of the man I am today without you. I feel so blessed every morning when I get to see you next to me, and I do not know how to thank you for giving me a chance to get my head out of the gutter. For having the patience to wait until I’m ready to come out. For accepting to brave whatever will be thrown at us now that we’re going to be public. Those last years have been hard, I know. But they were worth it, if it means we get to hold hands at the beginning and the end of the day, and now also in the middle if we feel like it. And I’ll often feel like it. Because I love you, and I love how our hands fit together, and I love that you and I have the same job because I love spending my days, and my nights with you. Because whether we just spent twenty-four hours together or haven’t seen each other in weeks it doesn’t matter, when I look at you you’ll always take my breath away and I’ll always see you as the sun of my life. I can’t wait for us to be under a khuppah with the entire world as a witness, or just you and I and no one around. I wouldn’t even notice the difference. I can’t wait to call you my husband, and I can’t wait to see all the love I have for you be only topped by the love I’ll have for our kids, and the only thing I’ll regret after marrying you is that I won’t get to do it ever again. But you’ll be there, and we’ll hold hands, so I won’t regret for long. I’ll just be content. Happy. Exhilarated. Because what I felt when we won the cup? It’s nothing next to what I felt when _you_ scored the winning goal. Next to what I’m feeling right now. So Bitty, I love you, you love me, let’s marry.”

“You’re _terrible_ ”

 

But Bitty was smiling, and crying, and Jack put their foreheads together and it was perfect.

 

 “Yes, Jack, I will marry you.”

 

So, Jack took his left hand between them and put the ring on Bitty’s finger, and then gave the box to Bitty, without looking away from his eyes. Bitty took the second ring and passed it on Jack’s finger, and Jack almost burst into fire. If he hadn’t already cried so much, he would have shed even more tears.

 

“I refuse to believe you _improvised_ that, big loaf.”

“I _did_ remember my arguments, I just had forgotten how I organised them.”

“I love you so much. And then some.”

 

Jack never ever would be happier.

And then, on centre ice after they won the Stanley Cup, Bitty kissed him, his hand behind his head to keep him close and Jack’s arms went to their place around Bitty’s waist and Jack realised. He could, and he would, still find happier moments around his fiancé.

 

It was a mess. They barely had time to make out that all their teammates -current and former- were wolf-whistling and screaming, and Alicia and Bob ran to hug them, and Bitty flashed his ring to them and Alicia began to cry and Bob had wet eyes and sobs in his voice when he told them how proud he was, and Zdar and Gothy bawled on their shoulders and Tater came and lifted them both in a crushing bear hug and Snowy and Marty were dramatically yelling “Whaaaat” and holding their heads but they were grinning and, not exactly knowing how, they got their hands on the Cup and drank champagne in it together and made their lap around the rink and kissed under it.

 

It’s when they walked off the ice that Jack began to process what just happened.  

He had stepped on it as a dime-a-dozen player with a secret boyfriend. He stepped off with the Stanley Cup that he won with his fiancé. He was too tired to panic, but he squeezed Bitty’s hand harder.

 

“Zimmboni, Bitty, I think George is waiting for you to rip you a new one,” Tater said, pointing at Georgia who was pacing up and down near the locker room hallway.  

“It was great to know you,” Thirdy said, “And I wish we’ll meet again in the afterlife.”

“To be honest I’m not sure of what’s happening but we have your backs, cap, Bits,” Poots added.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.”

 

George had set the mood as soon as the door of her office closed. Bob had tried to go with Jack and Bitty, but he got the door shut to his face; he very probably was camping in the hallway with Alicia, Shitty and the others.

 

“You may understand why we stayed hidden,” Bitty defensibly said.

“I do. But you should have warned management as soon as you… I don’t know. Got together? We’d have helped you to come out, and we’d have had a plan to back you up if you were outed. And we’d have let you know that we support you both. And I’m sorry you didn’t feel safe enough around the Falconers to come out to us.”

“I know,” Jack began. “But… We still couldn’t tell you. In my defence, I _did_ try to tell you, but…”

“But?”

“But I couldn’t find the words, so you talked first, and you told me about the quick forward from Samwell you wanted on the team.”

 

It took George a moment.

 

“Oh. Oh fuck. You didn’t get together just this year.”

“We’ve been together since graduation. Jack’s.”

“That’s a whole new set of issues. With all the shit Eric got with you just being _friends_ … Okay. Okay I understand. Okay, as your AGM, I’m not mad, nor disappointed.”

“As our _AGM_?”

“Yeah, as your _friend_ , Jack, I am _mad_ ,” George grinned. “Three years of deets are to be given. Come by next week.”

“Love,” Bitty began, with his no-nonsense captain voice, “y’aint giving deets about our Stanley-Cup-win slash engagement-night sex to anyone.”

“Engagement?!!”

 

 

 

**SUPER BLOOD HOCKEY – VIDJA GAME OR REAL LIEF**

_Kent (Aces)  
_> that was a great game

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> im crying please Bimmermann get your lil bi hands all over the cup for me let’s drink to celebrate

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> @Zdar, @Gothy you fought well let’s drink to forget

_Kent (Aces)  
_> OK I KNOW U NOT ON U PHONE RN BUT ZIMMS BITS R U DOIN WHAT U DOIN

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> cdjosf,eariogfzergzer

_Ark (Oilers)  
_> aegzydzpEMFCz

_Charlie (NYR)  
_> wow you’re really going at it are you trying to eat each other’s faces

_Lebo (NIY)  
_> I wish I came out like this????

_Kent (Aces)  
_> OH BOY

_Jack (Falcs)_  
>> Hey hi everyone I hope you liked the game even if you probably haven’t seen much from your seats  
>> Uh Bitty and I just came out and got engaged? That wasn’t planned (I planned to do it more in private…) but hey… He scored a winning goal

_Kent (Aces)_  
> YOU r the winning goal  
> no wait

_Nurofen (Habs)  
_> biggest regret -> not being here tonight. CONGRATS

_Lebo (NYI)  
_> YOU ARE WHAT

_Jack (Falcs)_  
>> Anyway we’re just out a meeting with our AGM and Bitty is with my parents right now, but we’re hitting the nearest club and then come over to my place tonight to celebrate? Gothy will be there and Zdar probably will too  
>> Bring your SO it will be us and the Falcs and SMH we’ll brief everyone about privacy no risk of leaks

_Anders (Oilers)_  
> Most of us are coming  
> ALL THE CONGRATS JACK N BITS HOW R THINGS

_Bitty (Falcs)_  
> GREAT  
> EVERYTHING IS GRETA IM NOT VFREAKING OUT

_Gothy (Schooners)_  
> he is  
> (Im in the hallway /w him I have proofs)  
> Congrats boys. That was a tough game  
> Also I heard the proposal, Jack HAS a tough game ;P

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> That’s so cute

_Gothy (Schooners)  
_> he’s gonna get the blowjob of his LIFE tonight

_Anders (Oilers)  
_> That’s less cute

 


	20. Out

The locker room was a mess. There was champagne everywhere. Jimin was crying and was already drunk. Tater was crying too, but was still sober. When Jack and Bitty arrived in there, they were welcomed by even more champagne and yells, and someone began to sing, so Jack just planted a kiss, here and there, on his fiancé’s lips because he _could._

 

“Fine!” Tater yelled. “No kissing in locker room!”

“Oh really? Jack asked, with a smile way too big. “Where are the laws, I forgot? Oh, there-“ he went to the wall where the bylaws were engraved. “Here. _You shall not, in front of your teammates, kiss your wife, girlfriend, or fiancée._ Fiancée with an e, by the way. So, feminine. Bud, are you a woman?”

“I sure am not, sweetpea.”

 

And Bitty planted a big kiss on Jack’s lips, in front of everyone.

 

“T’es un bel étron, Zimmermann. You changed the laws on purpose, didn’t you?” Marty asked.

“Well. None of you said anything or tried to change them, _so_ ,” Jack shrugged.

“You didn’t even try to change them once my out, gay butt came along. You really are the only ones to blame.”

“And we can’t even ask to change them now”, Thirdy sighed. “Jack will abuse his captain powers and veto it.”

“Damn straight.”

 

Marty came toward them, and stopped right there. Looking? _Gauging._ It was. Unnerving.

 

“… Yes?”

 

Marty didn’t reply, just hugged them both at the same time.

 

“I’m so happy. Jack finally did something about the awful crush he had all year on you. It was awful. I wanted to tell him 'stop it, Jack, he's got a boyfriend’, but yeah. You figured it out.”

“I-”

“That’s so cute. Jack, you’ve got a crush on me?” Bitty chirped.

“ _Bitty it’s been three years we’ve been together_ _I proposed ten minutes ago of course I’ve got a crush on you._ ”

“ _What_?”

“Zimmermann, Bittle, you _were together all this time? He was the boyfriend?_ ”

“… Surprise?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because we’re like, ninety percent certain we’re going to have problems with management. I mean, there was an investigation when Bittle first signed and people only thought we were friends,” Jack shrugged. “So, it was better to not tell you we were together than to ask you to lie to cover us.”

“Also being out was complicated enough as it was. We didn’t need to have _being out together_ added to that.”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t champagne but _glitter_ that welcomed Jack and Bitty home. And fifty people, at least. The Falcs that didn’t get swamped in the press conference were already there, along with the players’ family and friends and the whole group chat; Jack shouldn’t have let Lardo have a copy of the keys nor said Kent to lead everyone there.  

Shitty was naked and baked when he came to them to hug them, and crying.

 

“Your press conference was so bad.”

“Sorry I guess,” Bitty said.

“I love you both so much.”

“We have fifty meetings with officials scheduled this week. Would you make us the honor to be our lawyer now that you’ve graduated?” Jack asked.

“Pay me and accept that I quote you as a reference and I’ll do everything you want. Also dibs on being best man.”

 

Lardo came to get Shitty back and sit him on the balcony a bit, and instead, it’s Kent and Gothy who came. At least, they were clothed.

 

“I lost,” Gothy cried.

“‘Tis unfortunate,” Jack replied, patting his back.

“Congrats on the win, guys. And the ring. Your Samwell friends are like watchdogs. Not one picture of the party will leak, I can tell you,” Kent said.

“Good. All we’d need now is that one of y’all get outed…”

“Well…”

 

Gothy and Kent were eyeing at each other. As if they were trying to gauge who will be talking.

Bitty would have none of it. He just wanted to get drunk.

 

“What have you done.”

“We haven’t done anything! Yet! But. Online, people only talk about you, and well…” Kent began. “That’s not _all good.”_

“That’s not all bad either, but like. That would be like ripping off a band-aid, you feel?” Gothy added. “If a lot of people do it tonight, it won’t sting as much.”

“You want to come out?” Jack asked, incredulous. “Now?”

“The two of us for sure. Zdar also, maybe a few of the others.”

“You’re morons, you know that?”

 

 

 

**Eric R. Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

[Pictures: On the first, Jack, Kent and Gothy around a gay flag. Kent wears short shorts and heels. The second is Kent grossly kissing Tim on the cheek. The third is all the guys of the group chat (minus Nurofen (who’s not in Providence), Nils and Pichaku), and their SOs with rainbow flags on the cheeks grinning together. The fourth is a selfie of Jack and Bitty smacking.]

“Hey Bittle, take a picture!!” “We’re a hockey players video games enthusiast group” “also we’re queer as fuck”

 

 

**Eric R. Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

[Picture: In the middle of the party crowd, Jack, with a bi flag cape, carrying one side of the Stanley cup. Bitty, in rainbow paraphernalia, is carrying the other side. The cup is full of glitter.]

I can’t believe we won. I began to play hockey seven years ago as a way to hide to the world that I’m gay. I couldn’t imagine it’ll bring me to my best friends & fiancé, and that it’ll make me thrive as a happy, out gay man.

**Eric R. Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

I’d like to thank all the coaches I have ever had, for believing in me and giving me a chance. I’d like to thank my teammates, current and former, for trusting me.

**Eric R. Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

I’d like to thank my fiancé, for teaching me so much, and for waking me at four AM to teach me even more, even if I hated you every morning. I don’t thank you for forgetting to fold the socks tho

**Eric R. Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

We’ll deal with the shit tomorrow morning. Tonight is about getting drunk and forgetting our names

 

 

 

**Coach**

> Your mother and I watched the game.

> I’m proud of you.

> Call me when you’ve got time.

>> I’ll try, dad

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading !!
> 
> Say hello on tumblr @insertatitlehere !  
> Thanks again whyartblog for the art !


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